Lasting Influences

Night-blooming Cereus (Image Credit: By Shamarama64 - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=79374386)

I recently finished a book where the storyline centered around cuttings from the "Queen of the Night," a spineless cactus originating from Asia that has not only been used medicinally for centuries but also produces large, fragrant flowers that only bloom at night for a few hours. Selenicereus grandiflorus, with many other common names including the Night-blooming cereus, was one of my mom's favorites among her plant collection. I recall when she brought this home with excitement, wondering if it would ever bloom given the shade of our yard shadowing her sunroom, and the excitement when the plant matured and showed the first signs of flower buds. I remember my mom's irritation when she woke up to a strong scent in the air, realizing that she missed the first flower that hung down meekly suspended from the plant, having expended its energy while in its glory for only a few hours. Most importantly, after the next flower bud emerged, waiting up until very late with my mom, having tea to watch the first bloom open, was a very special moment shared with her. The long stalk of the flower would begin to shake just before it emerged, like a butterfly coming out of its cocoon. When it was in full bloom, it was like a fireworks explosion with white and soft pink spiky petals that gave off a strong fragrance. This was so overpowering we had to open all the windows to share the scent with the night (and prevent nauseating headaches). Following this the plant was kept outside on the deck during the summer blooming period. My mom was thrilled, and the joy she received from this plant, which became a large centerpiece of her collection, was also a teaching moment that she shared with guests and family when they visited. The blend of plant knowledge and teaching - her passion.

When I finished the book, which left the four heroines at different places around the world with each of their plant cuttings coming into bloom, I looked over at my cutting. I was able to separate a section of my mom's Night-blooming cereus, which is now displayed on my window ledge. When asked by guests or passersby who see this plant in the window, I share a little of what the plant is, which afterwards I realize echoes so much of what my mom shared herself. I've watched this plant grow since I brought it home, and I am very excited to see the first nub of a bud starting. I look forward to sitting up with my tea, waiting to see the first bloom explode into its finest moment in the night in your memory, Mom.

The book I finished that influenced this story: "The Pheonix Crown", by Kate Quinn and Janie Chang