Back in the early ’70s, long before I was a twinkle in my parents’ eyes, my mom brought a Dieffenbachia plant back from San Antonio, Texas. She kept it growing through the years until my dad died, and she gave me a cutting of it since she was about to downsize. It’s been a constant in my home since then — about 7 years now.
For the first time since getting it, as it grew and began to hang over on tops of itself, it became obvious I needed to cut down the plant to start it back over. After instruction from my mom, I hacked away at the plant and have it sitting in water, waiting for it to root.
I’m starting roots for a plant that’s several years older than me. It’s weird to say it — but this plant just feels like home.
