I never knew my grandfather, but he was an artist and a gardener, with a great love for plants of all kinds and a particular appreciation for the amaryllis. He knew to let the bulbs go dormant each summer so that blooms could be forced in the winter, and he passed this knowledge down to his daughter-in-law, my mother. Growing up, we always had amaryllis, and I thought of them as an inheritance of sorts from Grandpa Seaverns. We also had leafy and colorful begonias, cyclamen, geranium, and African violets. Our Christmas cactus lived on a bathroom window sill designed for that very purpose and bloomed almost constantly.

When I lived in a dorm room 15 years ago, my mother mailed me a shoebox of bromeliad wrapped in wet paper towels and a clipping of a philodendron, with a note that they’d both be easy to keep alive. She was right – I provide them with a bit of daylight and I water them when they droop, and both are still in my care, along with their various progeny. The bromeliads can’t be stopped, actually – their rich green leaves grow and curl, while baby bromeliads emerge from the shade below. They’ve never flowered in my care but I learned recently that with a bit of hocus pocus, each of those tiny new plants could be persuaded to bloom – just once. The philodendron is leggy and leafy, which I’ve always liked just fine, but apparently if I clipped those trailing vines once in a while, they would grow into a nice cluster of leaves in the pot. Over the years, additional plants have come into my life, but I’m not terribly attentive, and most of them aren’t very happy.

In October, we visited my aunt in Montreal. Her houseplants are so successful that they compete for space with the furniture. Her flowering azalea is nearly three feet across and was brilliant with blooms on the kitchen table, though it was already snowing outside. Vases and jars of philodendron provide bursts of green in the bathroom and on window sills. I came home determined to assess (and revive) my own houseplant situation.

Most problems can be solved with a spreadsheet, so I started there. I listed all the plants in my care, looked up their preferences, and got everything documented. I didn’t realize that so many houseplants prefer to be root-bound! I flipped through my mother’s houseplant book (which I’ve had on a shelf for years), threw out two of the ugliest spider plants, and put a handful of philodendron clippings into a tall vase full of water. Then I took myself to Gertens and purchased an enormous amaryllis bulb, a Christmas cactus, a few flower pots, and some potting soil. Red and white amaryllis are relatively common, but the apple blossom variety (a favorite in our family) is harder to find, and Gertens had them on hand.

The bulb I pulled out of a barrel in October has burst forth with the most incredible floral display I have ever seen. This amaryllis has twelve blooms at once, with another flower stalk maturing, and I hope to maintain tradition by persuading it into a similar show of color next year. In contrast, all the buds on the Christmas cactus have dried up. I’ve watered it steadily and provided it with sunshine, but I think it lacks humidity. Picturing the Christmas cactus of my childhood, I moved mine into the windowless bathroom this morning while I took a shower, and back into the sunshine this afternoon. Perhaps with some dedicated attention, it can be nursed back to health.

Photo credits, mine.