Writing Workshop: My Shame Knows No Limits

Phil, during happier days.

Phil, during happier days.

Assignment: A houseplant is dying. Tell it why it needs to live.

Submission:

My Dearest Philodendron,

Please forgive me.

The blame for your sorrow can be entirely placed at my door. For weeks I have cavalierly disregarded the signs of your distress: your reach for the bright light of the fluorescent, your soft, sweet leaf curl during times of drought and the pale, yellowed edge to your stems all spoke to me of your suffering.

There is no excuse. You do not now, nor have you ever asked much of me. Clear, constant light, evenly moist soil and the occasional liquid house plant fertilizer are the only necessities my beautiful P. scandens require and yet, I ignored you.

My shame knows no limits.

Dear Phil, please come back to me! Please rally your boundless strength and put forth again those variegated green and yellow heart-shaped leaves. Gather your vigor and once again climb and cover the credenza of my lonely workspace.

I miss your bright energy.

I need your fresh vitality.

I pledge to treat you as you deserve to be treated.

Please live.

Your contrite friend and caretaker,

KC

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