My Grandmother’s Pot Plant

My grandmother would probably kill me if she knew I wrote this, but I wanted to save it for the years to come. Since she has been staying with us (one reason why I haven’t been updating my site like I should), we’ve done a little reminiscing. I remember one afternoon when I came home from school (I went to Grandma’s house after school so she could take care of me while my parents were at work) and she and her sisters were sitting around the table whispering and laughing in Spanish. I really didn’t know any Spanish. In the middle the table was a plant in a vase. It wasn’t until years later that I realized what the plant was.

When I mentioned this memory to my grandmother the other day, she told me that the neighbors would smoke marijuana by the small fence that was between their yards. They would drop their butts down into my Grandfather’s rose garden. Apparently one little seed actually germinated and grew quite tall, that is until my grandmother figured out what it was and pulled it out. I guess the neighbors were a little sad, because they were watching it’s progress. Imagine the looks on their faces when they saw it was gone.

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