Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Miami Wasn't Traumatic For Just Us

So I've made no secret about our disdain for Miami.  It's now the place we love to hate.  We are reaching that point where we can look at each other and jokingly ask, "Can you believe we did that?"
In the grand scheme of our life together, Miami will be a mere blip on the radar.  And to our credit, we came back stronger than when we left.  So in retrospect, leaving Chicago to go anywhere for that year was a good thing for us to do, both personally and professionally.  Admittedly, it was a hard year, but WE weren't the only ones who suffered.

Since professional movers boxed up our things to move to Miami, we couldn't take house plants.  Our belongings would sit in storage for almost three weeks and any house plant was guaranteed to not survive the experience.  So we left them behind in the care of our renter, who assured us he would look after them.  Otherwise, we would have given them to friends.  So you can imagine my surprise a year later when I moved back into our condo and saw our ficus tree.  I almost cried:

March 2014
There stood the physical manifestation of our Miami experience:  worn, sparse, sad, defeated.  In order for the tree to look like this, the renter would have had to completely ignore it - in other words, never water it.  Before I even unpacked a box from the moving van, I went to the tree and apologized to it.  I brushed a year's worth of dust from its leaves and told it that good and positive energy was back in the condo and I promised we would never leave it again.  

Fast forward 9 months and the tree looked like this:

December 2014
Seriously, all I did was water it once a week.  But I believe it fed off our energy.  It stood silently by as Kevin proposed to me, as we welcomed friends into our home, as we planned our wedding, and as we geared up to buy a new home for all of us.  All the while, it got healthier and fuller.

And now we are in our new home.  Ficus trees can be temperamental; they don't like to change their environment.  We were afraid we might lose it when we relocated from the condo to the house in March.  But again, I made a promise to it, professed my love for it, and here's the tree today:

July 2015

Just 16 months after the first picture up top, I took the above picture this morning.  The tree is healthier and more vibrant that it's ever been.  Just like us, it came back stronger after the Miami experience as well.  Kevin always calls me a "dog whisperer" because dogs seem to be attracted to me.  But I've also never lost a plant (with the exception of an orchid here and there) and our house plants, even the temperamental ones, just seem to thrive.

Trees and plants are living things.  I think they feed off of us, our emotions, our happiness.  I'll let the ficus tree be the symbol of my life's happiness.  Love your children, love your pets, and love your plants.  Because all of them are living representations of you.  Take a look at your plants, because they will be a window into your life.

And tell them you love them now and then.