As I stood there with the flower vase staring at him angrily while he argued, conflicting thoughts crisscrossed through my mindfield.
 
 
“Think before you say the next thing now so I do not smash this thing on your head”  But as he continued talking, I shut the door and walked.
 
“Phew, that was close!  at what point did I leave the soothing warmth of my early morning Father-daughter bonding to this mother-son heated brouhaha?”   The last thing I recall was going to the fridge for some milk.  And now I stood by the kitchen counter pacing my breath.
 

“you almost fell into that trap and would have ruined this atmosphere over nothing”   the rebuke came

Atmosphere.  Trap.  Fell.  Nothing. Then it hit me.  Cradling my cup of hot chocolate I walked back into my room.  As I sat back down on my Prayer/Yoga mat I heard again “Over nothing”.
 
“It is not nothing.  That Plant already survived the winter and is thriving in this Spring and I keep telling him ……”
 
“And you life-giver enabled it to survive the winter?  how many flowers do we have in this house again?”
 
“Why are you flipping it on me now?  did you not watch him kill my Maranta last year?
 
“the winter would have finished it off anyway.  And the Maranta is sprouting again so why are you whining?
 
“Aha, now I am whining?”
 
 
“I will slash his footballs if I have to”.  I huffed
 
 
“Since when have you ever slashed anything?”
 
 
Ouch!
 
 
“Is it not your fault that I am so constrained? afterall…….”
 
“Amara, how many plants do we have in this house?
 
 
 Grudgingly, I stood up again to go take stock.
 
 

Meanwhile, the past few days had been rough.  Last night I had knocked off about four hours of sleep without the morphine.  By 7 am, I had spent time catching up with friends around the Globe, finally finished the story I began writing weeks back and caught up on my messages.  Manifested my day, had an invigorating bath, dressed up and back on my Prayer Mat for some Father-Daughter time.

 
It felt like the real me. Such days were rare and it was probably that feeling which generated all these dopamine I was floating on now.  Also, having a hot cuppa during my devotions gave me an early morning bonding feeling with my father.  And that was how the milk idea came up.

 

Then I saw them on the floor! My precious Chinese Money plant!

 

Lifting the pot to examine, what I saw had my head spinning and the next thing I knew I had yanked his door open. 

This same boy had smashed a big antique silvery vase last month and I chose to accept sorry and peace of mind.  This, right after the winter finished off the Maranta plant from where his football stopped.  My young Philodendron which defied the winter is now fighting for life because each time it attempts to hug the trellis, his football knocks it over. Until he recently met me halfway by hedging it.

 
And now, this!
 
Nonetheless, as I walked around counting all the flowers, I saw the knocked over card on the floor and read the words again.
 
Then images flashed before my eyes.  The countless ways he has cared for me as I battled the illness. The toll it has taken on him and how he is still a little boy after all.
 
Later as he was leaving for school, he stood by my door and explained:
 
“You know that I now play football against only that wall by the sofa.  It was while moving the table last night that it hit the pot. You were already asleep so I could not tell you.  It was not football”
 
“Ndo.  Sorry I shouted at you”  I apologised
 
This son of mine; worth more than all the flowers in the world.

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