I had two beautiful avocado plants from the seeds I’d managed to germinate last year. I’d even potted them up with space to grow and settle down. They stayed in leaf all winter in my room, by the window for light but not in too cold a position. I only ever managed to read guides on germinating, not sustaining avocados, so I’m surprised they lasted so long in my care.

On Easter weekend this year I came home to see my avocado plants, my dog, and my family, in that order of priority. They were still growing strong, but I noticed that one of them was bending quite dramatically towards the window. It was a particularly lovely day so I thought I would give them a treat and moved them outside to have sunlight from all angles.

I gave them a drink, and then picked them up to move them outside, this is when the truth made itself known. One of the dear things was in reality very delicate, and the movement from being picked up shook the remaining leaves from its tiny body. They detached and flopped miserably to the floor as I watched in distress. I examined a bit closer and realised that this plant had been suffering immensely in my absence, the tip of its stem blackened and shriveled. I no longer held hope for the return of such a fragile being. Its body was placed ceremonially on the compost pile, it’s true what they sing: only the good die young.

In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.

The other twin seemed to be doing a little better, its leaves held fast even after a little bit of experimental swaying. I took him out into the sun, to sit outside for the first time ever. Its delicate bright green leaves looked fantastic in the bright light. I left him in a sheltered spot where the wind wouldn’t blow him about too much, for no more than an hour. But even this proved to be a potentially fatal mistake. When I returned to check in on him the leaves were badly wilted and darkening in certain places, drooping from the parching conditions I’d left him to the mercy of.

I felt terrible, another life destroyed by my carelessness. I brought him back inside, flooded plenty of water into the pot and waited for the excess to drain away. I stood him in pride of place, in the best window in the house and watched, waited for signs of recovery. Nothing changed in 5 minutes and I couldn’t look any longer.

With heavy heart I let it be, I passed the baton of responsibility to my mother. I know that only time will tell what lasting damage I have done, but for now at least he is showing signs of new life.

