An Oak Stool And An Ivy

A story of mothers and daughters

I saw it while strolling the gravel aisles of my local nursery on a hazy, hot day in last midsummer, a grape leaf ivy. My breath caught - I’d never seen one here before. In a whoosh of memory, I was back in my childhood home, seeing my mother’s abundantly lush grape leaf ivy that sat atop and tumbled down the sides of the antique stove in the family room. It became one of her favorite houseplants, and one of mine.

And here, after so many years, I’d unexpectedly found one. Excitement bloomed as I brought it home, potted it in an old clay pot, watered it, and watched it grow effortlessly and abundantly over the coming months. How can a houseplant bring such joy? And what is joy but to be shared? Come December, the grape leaf ivy had nearly (delightfully) outgrown our house, and I knew I’d soon need to give it away…