Journal, Day 1558

Monday, 24 June 2024

Ukraine War: Day 853

Hamas-Israel War: Day 260

Mass shootings in the USA in 2024: 249

36 years ago today my Mom handed me a fuzzy leaf cutting from her favorite African Violet plant on the kitchen windowsill. I was just finishing packing my car for the long drive to Los Angeles from Colorado, kitten-proofing the car windows with chicken wire (thanks, Dad), and getting ready to get some sleep so I could be well-rested for my departure. My nine-week-old cat, Jack, was playing with my shoelaces.

The tiny leaf was wrapped in a damp paper towel and inside a sandwich baggie to keep the cut end moist. Mom was tearful and tried to cover it by telling me plant care tips. First and foremost was not to let the little leaf dry out.

I could see in her eyes that it was breaking her that her youngest child was leaving. I didn’t say anything when I took the cutting. I was speechless with emotion. I looked at the leaf, then at Mom, and then I wrapped my arms around her and promised I would protect this little piece of her.

I meant it.

36 years later, here it is. I just now took this photo. I miss you, Mom.