I met her decades ago, right after we moved to Michigan. She was living with my neighbor, 2 houses away for most of her life. She looked kinda frumpy. Mildred (my new neighbor, definitely not frumpy) said she had received Millie from a relative out east when were both very young. By the time I got acquainted with them, Mildred was in her early 70’s so I assumed Millie was a few years her senior.

Millie was hanging out on the patio, catching a few indirect rays, lounging on an uncomfortable wrought iron table. Maybe that’s why she looked ill at ease. She kinda slumped to one side like she was trying hard to keep her balance (story of my life sista).

For the next 20 years (7 of those almost daily when we were neighbors) I watched as Millie languished in and out of different seasons of her life. She didn’t require much from Mildred, thus Mildred did not give her much attention. When the weather dipped below freezing, Millie was brought inside by Mildred’s faithful helper Pam where she sat on a coffee table, facing south, overlooking her summer spot on the patio while we both endured another miserable, endless Michigan winter. (I feel ‘ya on this one too).

When we hit the 20 year mark, Mildred was reaching the end of her long, fruitful life (but Millie was still in her prime). After Mildred passed away her family asked if I’d take Millie! (They seemed unconcerned with my dismal history of killing house plants), although Millie was conflicted by their decision.

I’m here to tell you Millie absolutely thrived for 8 years in North Muskegon. She was as shocked as me. One of the keys to Millie’s successful life was our front porch where she spent her summers. The porch faced north and had a roof so she was never subjected to extreme heat or sun. She loved it out there although by my calculations she was outnumbered by spiders 3 million to one. She didn’t seem to mind. She loved lake living.

That all changed in 2015 when we moved in with Shannon for 6 weeks while we worked on a new (old) house we had just bought (near our kids). I plopped Millie and several African violets on Shannon’s outside front entrance which was cement and semi-covered. The weather was still warm, and I promptly forgot about Millie. She might have tried to reach out to me but I was too busy and distracted. When it was moving day Millie was tucked in the back of the Jeep and hurriedly unpacked on the floor behind some big boxes in a bedroom where she stayed for weeks. I did remember to water her and the violets every week but never really looked at them.

After new flooring was installed, I was ready to find the plants a permanent home I noticed a couple of my violets were dead. Then I took a good look at Millie. She didn’t look right. On closer inspection she was sitting in a big puddle of water although I gave her only a sip every week. She must have gotten soaked a few times while outdoors and I never noticed.

A childhood classmate, Marlys Gayer and I had recently hooked up through Facebook (one of the few perks I love), so I sought her advice about my century old plant. “Neese, she’s literally drowning and everything below the surface is rotten! You must clip off several green ends, dump the soil, wash the planter, buy new succulent soil, some fertilizer and plop those ends in various spots about an inch deep. Water sparingly. She’ll be fine.”

Marlys gave me this advice 8 years ago. Since then Millie has done very well. When her growth spurts were noticeable, I started new baby plants, (see I don’t even know what that’s called). I’d just wop off a a couple inches of several green ends (fronds?) and stick them in soil and voila, a new baby Christmas cactus was born. I brought a few back to Iowa so Marlys (and other friends and family) would have offspring of the dear plant Marlys saved (in spite of my ineptness).

Millie is not an actual Christmas cactus. She blooms around Easter and Thanksgiving. Oftentimes she has blooms galore on one side, and stark naked of any buds on the other. She definitely marches to the beat of her own drummer, which reminds me of my Iowa friend Marlys who’s had some tough years recently. Recurring breast cancer, serious kidney issues, yet she remained optimistic, upbeat and full of faith.

Unfortunately, we lost Marlys this spring. I remember a post that the news of her last test results were not good and she was going back to the specialist to review her treatment options. A few days later she was gone.

About 3 weeks ago I spotted my first bud on Millie and wondered if this blooming season was going to be small and petite, lopsided or gang busters. Since that first tiny appearance, she has produced buds everywhere, showing off in her own unique style what this Thanksgiving was gonna look like. She had buds on top of buds, often in triplets, hanging on the ends with the promise of vibrant red color to come. This was Millie’s opportunity to show her eternal gratitude to my friend Marlys for saving her for me. Miss you Mar…