House Plant

       I met this awesome woman from England, Dr. Ligia Szumoski, 87 and still vibrant, still so fully alive. She has dual citizenship in the US and in England, she speaks 7 different languages fluently, and has retired for the United Nations as a correspondent. She married a man who loved her fully. He passed away 10 years ago leaving her with giant jewels wrapped around her fingers marking the length of time they'd been married…50 plus years. He studied in South Africa as an anthropologist surrounded by women with beautiful high breasts, sharp cheekbones, full lips, "cocoa people" she said, as she gently rubbed my left hand to emphasize the color of my skin and the beautiful correlation  between it and these bizarre but enchanting people. I was flattered. She had lived 3 lifetimes and still had a cool fire behind her icy blue eyes. Her accent was as warm as hot chocolate and it felt like she hugged me every time she called me "darling". 

      She was the Phoenix in front of my rainy Tuesday backdrop and so I spoke to her for longer than needed but I couldn't turn her away, I couldn't regard her with such low or even average attention. Her experiences seem to follow her and I couldn't  help but to get caught up in her train of life. Lessons etched in each wrinkle on her face and I wanted to know them all, learn them all just so I could sit and nod and confirm that I knew exactly what she was talking about. 

I gotta get out more! 

     I soaked in her essence like I was as thirsty as a house plants' roots. Parts of me brown and dimmed, close to death but living on the solar power of hope and quenching inspiration. She says she'll be back to see me bringing with her pictures of her Africa and I can't help but anticipate her icy blue eyes and wise wrinkles and bejeweled hands and comforting voice and ageless experiences. I imagine her having a house plant, keeping her company, fully alive and cared for. The mutual respect they have for each other, the evident equality of their present situation. Both with memories, both with a rooted will to live, both knowing that the inevitable "end" will consume their lives but the air of the their existence will permeate this realm. I'd inhale. LIFE. Maybe I'd have a train of life's experiences following me, filling rooms and lives and realms. 

Hey you house plant, don't die…life is worth living. Now I'm off to water my roots.