It's Been A Blast, Cactus

This weekend I had to come to the realization that my beloved cactus, Erica, given to me when I was 19 by my lovely roommate Rodelinda (to use Mistress' pseudonym), has died with no chance of coming back.

We have been through a lot, my cactus and I. She survived no less than 8 moves and was on the brink of death one time before. There was a successful resuscitation attempt by Krazy, with the help of Mr. C's green-thumb mother. She has witnessed my metamorphosis from an awkward, rural 19-year-old student to a, dare I say it, sophisticated, urban 28 year-old mother.

I am honestly not trying to be melodramatic, I am feeling a very keen sense of loss and hopelessness over my cactus. There are not too many other things that have been with me this long, besides human friends and family. I think what I am really mourning is the fact that I won't ever again become so attached to something. It was with a youthful innocence that I lovingly developed a relationship with my cactus and I know that this is gone. I don't understand where it went, but is this something that every adult goes through? Why is your heart more hardened in your late twenties versus your late teens?

Anyway, long story short, we came back from our summer holiday at my parents and the Erica was not looking good. She was looking quite droopy and spongy. I suspect that she may have been overwatered at some point. We all know that you can save a plant if it has been underwatered, but not overwatered.

Even I can recognize the silliness inherent in this post but I had to get it out anyway. The little part of me that is still 19 years old is very saddened. I will miss you dear cactus and you are irreplaceable.