Kathy Baker: Stand tall

An amaryllis plant stands tall on my kitchen counter. I wonder if it has any idea how beautiful it is. At first, it was simply a nondescript, brown knob. Then, seemingly overnight, it became a tall, green stalk. Little by little, a perfect flower appeared. Soon, I thought, it will shrivel and die, as plants do. But that’s not what happened. Over time, three more opulent blooms arrived; each one a perfect sculpture, each one a miracle; deep red in color; velvety, lush. How, I wondered, did they grow so well, stuck so close to one another? The plant stood, calm and bright, throughout the mayhem that obliterates my kitchen counter during the holidays.

It stood tall, surrounded by children’s crayons and markers and poster paper and scissors and tape. And smears of buttery crumbs from all the cookie baking. Alongside a wine cork, a couple of receipts, and crumpled sticky notes that hopelessly kept reminding me of the next task at hand. It was a beacon of joy amidst chaos.

Weeks later, on a frigid January morning, I am sitting at that same kitchen counter, writing this column. The amaryllis still stands tall next to my coffee mug. But the four gorgeous blooms are dying, shrinking and shriveling, day by day. Their era of opulence is ebbing away, right before my eyes. I feel a sense of loss, even though I know that, like all of creation, flowers are born with an expiration date.

But wait: I examine the amaryllis more closely, and see, at the base of the stalk, just above the red wax ball, a new stalk peeking out. Is it possible, I wonder, that the four blossoms are dying in service of a larger purpose? Are they making way to allow for a new stalk to grow? Is their passing actually a harbinger of a bright new day?

I have been looking at images of our planet, seen from space. You’ve probably seen those pictures? There are no words to describe how achingly beautiful it is. Suspended in a dark sky among the stars and its fellow planets, it seems invincible, everlasting. I find myself humming an old song, “From A Distance,” sung by Bette Midler. Yes, I think, from a distance, I see harmony among all of humanity and all of earth’s creatures. I see our own country, standing tall. I see old ways, having served their purpose, giving way to peace.

And yet, like the amaryllis, there is an expiration date stamped on our planet–as well as on each of us. Is our country, our culture, dying? Has it served its purpose? In these dark days of January, I see so much that I’ve cherished about my beloved America, shriveling and shrinking before my eyes, no longer standing tall.

I can remember a time, not so many decades ago, when it seemed that our nation, flawed though it certainly was, seemed to be growing towards the sun of love, justice and peace. Moments of greatness, even.

Today, all of us are encased in our own individual, red wax balls. We don’t agree on what’s wrong, or how to fix it. We don’t trust each other. We think if we guard the borders of our own little lives, and hold tight, hidden inside our waxy haven, that somehow, magically, all will be well one of these days.

I challenge that belief. We are literally and figuratively killing each other, using the law as a weapon against our neighbors. Our institutions, including the Bill of Rights, the courts, the system of checks and balances–and freedom itself–are fading away, like my four amaryllis blossoms.

But wait. Is it possible that our old ways are dying in service of a larger purpose? Are they making way to allow a new America to grow? Is their passing actually a harbinger of a bright new day?

I sit here, suspended in a tiny wisp of hope, remembering those four blossoms that grew tall, stood TOGETHER — whether they liked each other or not — and found enough strength, sustenance and compassion to make room for each other, and to help each other grow. They knew, somehow, that to be divided would have meant the end of their lives. Only together could they become the glorious flower that they were meant to be.

I pray to all that’s holy that we will find the will to stand together, with liberty and justice for all. United, we stand tall. Divided, we fall.