Room to Grow: Plants that Grow Easily in Water

Some gifts don't come in wrapping paper. Some gifts come as clippings placed in water jars and sit submissively on windowsills.  Overtime they can root quietly, stretch, and grow. One of the most meaningful gifts I've ever received was a Golden Pathos clipping from my father. It wasn't ceremonious-just a simple snip from one of his thriving plants-but it carried something more lasting: care, history, and a little bit of green magic.

Growing up, my father always kept beautiful plants around. His Golden Pathos hung like green waterfalls from macrame planters, catching the light in a way that made even corners feel warm. He also had thriving Wandering Jews with shimmering purple leaves, just as striking and lively. There was something calming and consistent about his plant care-the quiet tending, the attention to detail. I admired it even then, not realizing it would later become a part of my deco journey & desire.

When he gave me that Pathos clipping, I cared for it like it was sacred. It came with me through different seasons and spaces, growing slowly, steadily, as if soaking up every chapter of my life. But in the shuffle of moving-between boxes, transitions, and distractions-I lost it. I didn't mean to. Some things just slip through when you're doing your best to carry everything else.

Luckily, I had passed on a piece of it before it disappeared. Years ago, I gave a cutting to my mother and rooted it in a vase in her guest bathroom. That's where it's stayed-same vase, same corner, same light. She's so used to the way it looks there that she won't let me repot it, even though I've tried. Every time I suggest giving it soil and a little room to flourish, she shuts it down with a loving but firm, "No, I like it just the way it is." So instead, she changes the water from time to time and gives it a good rinse. Somehow, it continues-rooted, graceful, and unmoved.

More recently, I found myself deep in conversation with a friend about houseplants. Her Golden Pathos is thriving and trailing across counter with confidence and much potential. We talked about how plants witness our lives, how they reflect our energy, how they grow in the background while everything else shifts. She's not just any friend-she was once a long-time client in my salon. Like many women I styled over the years, our relationship grew far beyond the chair. In that space of care and conversation, we shared more than hair routines-we shared real life. Here we were, years later, still connecting, still growing-but this time over roots in water, not roots in relaxers. Well, we did chat about natural hair, recipes, & boys, but that's not the point here. 

Back to the plants 🌱 We began listing the plants we loved that could regrow in water. Golden Pathos, of course. Then Wandering Jew, Snake Plant, Lucky Bamboo, and heartleaf Philodendron. All low-maintenance, all generous. Then came the kitchen crew-green onions, basil, celery, romaine lettuce. Garlic and ginger would surprise you with how willing they are to start again. Sweet potatoes too, with vines that sneak up and spill over with joy.

It felt like a quiet affirmation: growth doesn't have to be dramatic to be real. Sometimes all it takes is a little water, a little light, and someone who sees potential-whether it's in a plant, a person, or a moment.

My father's hands. My mother's stubborn little vase. My lost Pathos. My client-turned-friend. This web of memory and connection, all tied together by a simple plant that refuses to quit. That keeps rooting. That keeps growing.

The Golden Pathos is more than a beginner's houseplant. It's a symbol of legacy, resilience, and quiet grace. It doesn't ask for much-just a chance to stretch. What it gives back is everything: beauty, healing, remembrance, and connection.

Some plants grow in soil. Some grow in water. Some grow in stories, passed hand to hand-leaf to leaf-between people who care enough to share. Get one & love it to life🥰 Thank me later🌱☀️