It arrived at our house sometime around her birth. I can't remember whether it was delivered when she was born, or when we brought her home. There were sixty-six days in between those two events. Those months were filled with twice-daily trips downtown to the hospital, attaching myself to a breast pump eight times a day, updates from doctors and nurses, phone calls with family and friends, and work, surprisingly.
That was almost twenty-seven years ago. The pink ceramic baby buggy contained an assortment of plants, one of which was a small dragon dracaena. The plants lived on the nursery windowsill in the buggy for awhile, until it was evident that they needed their own pots.
The dracaena must have liked the light on the eastern side of our house, because it continued to grow...and grow...and grow. I transplanted it into bigger and bigger pots, until its current twenty-inch home in the living room, because that's the only place that gets that light and has a higher ceiling--which is not high enough. And because I know nothing about the care of a dracaena, it has become a twisted, tangled, looped mass of trunks and dead ends, with massive heads of long leaves in our window, thriving in the light there. I can't bear to prune it for fear of killing the plant, and so it continues to grow up and around, the ends that hit the ceiling bearing sparse leaves that don't enjoy the same access to sunlight as the bent branches below.
Our daughter's husband is a botanist by training; perhaps when they move to the United States and get a home of their own, he can tame the gangly dragon. The tree really is hers, after all.
I love how you wove the story around the tree that is really your daughter's. Story within story, Chris, makes for a good read this morning.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Carol! The tree is a living reminder of those tough early days; just hoping she's willing to take on its care when she returns from Japan!
DeleteThis is an utterly fascinating story, Chris! That tree - look how tall! You know I love symbolism; this is just begging to be explored ... I gotta know, is your daughter a musician? I remember reading a former post along musical lines, just can't quite recall details. Anyway, I just looked up dragon trees and learned that the blood-red resin was used by Stradivarius to color and enhance the resonance of his famous violins ... it's too much poetic fancy, I guess, to hope that your daughter plays the violin ... at any rate, I don't blame you for not having the heart to tamper with your daughter's tree ... but see, it is long-living, as is your little daughter, far beyond those first hectic, hard sixty-six days. Amazing.
ReplyDeleteShe is a musician, but not a violinist, I'm afraid--percussionist, which of course includes a multitude of instruments, from trap sets to marimba, djembes, bells...Thank you for the historical tidbit about the resin! I did start out just writing about the tree, but the story of its arrival to highlight the longevity ended up being the focus. :-) I really hope the botanist-husband can help it thrive properly.
DeleteI found this amazing. How special that you have had that tree 27 years and it has become so unique- a symbol of triumph!
ReplyDeleteUnique is definitely the word for it! I'm amazed it still continues to grow, given the conditions. There's nowhere else in the house to put it; I feel bad whenever a branch hits the ceiling!
DeleteI'm so glad you went with the tree theme! This post has so many unspoken layers. And that crazy, tall tree--Wow!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Molly! I do need to give it a bit more TLC, perhaps get some professional advice on pruning so that it looks a bit better before I hand it off...
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