How a 45-year-old cactus brought a community together

NEW MILFORD — After seven moves and 45 years, Ron Arden’s cactus was sick and tired.

His new spot in his newest home didn’t have enough sunlight. His soil didn’t fulfill him like it used to. His roots wanted to stretch but were confined in the little pot he sat in all day. One of his branches had turned a whitish-gray, shriveling and cracking.

A panicked Arden, who moved from Vermont to New Milford with his wife in January, posted in a local Facebook group. He needed help to save his cactus.

“Weirdest request of the week,” it started. “I need a cactus expert to diagnose what the issue is and recommended remedial actions. This cactus has enormous sentimental value to me.”

New Milford responded to the call. Within minutes, the

post was getting comments, suggestions, and input from other local cactus owners. Someone tagged Colleen Purcell, who owns Scott's Landscaping & Nursery, in the post. A few days later, the cactus was undergoing emergency surgery. Thanks to Purcell, the prognosis was good: he was going to survive.

The community had come together to help their neighbor save his beloved plant.

Four decades together

Arden has owned the Cereus cactus since he was a 23-year-old living in the Bronx. Arden doesn’t quite remember where he got the cactus or when it came into his possession, but for the past 45 years it’s been a constant in his life.

He would come home froma long, hard workday and vent.

“I’d say, ‘You have no idea what today was like,’ and I’d just talk to it,” he said. “It was a means of me decompressing from the day. Some people talk to higher powers, some people talk to energies and spirits metaphysically. It was my way of venting and my way of going over my day.”

At that time, the cactus was very little. Now, he’s over 7 feet tall and weighs more than 100 pounds by

Arden’s estimates. He’s been Arden’s companion through seven different moves, three different states, marriage and children.

During moves, Arden said he was always very careful with his cactus, reminding the movers to “handle that cactus with TLC.”

The cactus doesn’t have a name and also didn’t have have pronouns until Purcell’s visit. When she works with plants, she said she just gets a sense about them. The cactus seemed like a ‘he.’

“It’s just my cactus, and it’s been symbolic of my journey,” Arden said. “The cactus is a metaphor for my life. Things fall of the cactus, limbs break off, new ones grow. Each branch of that cactus is like a journey I’ve been on.”

To him, the cactus represents the ability to endure and thrive in dry environments, or the capacity to be soft on the inside and tough on the outside. The cactus reminds Arden of the importance of not smothering something with love and attention (the cactus only needs to be watered every once in a while).

After connecting over Facebook, Purcell and Arden arranged a time to meet, and Purcell arrived ready to save the cactus.

“She said, ‘Ron, your cactus is in good hands now,’” Arden said.

The plant could be saved, but it needed new soil, a larger pot, better sunlight, and some branches re

moved.

Sentimental plants

Sentimental plants are common in Purcell’s line of work. With more than two decades of plant work under her belt, it’s something she often sees. The living organisms require care and attention to flourish. It’s an investment of time and energy. Many people inherit plants or receive them as gifts. When they live for decades, like Arden’s cactus, it’s understandable that emotions get involved.

Sometimes it’s a grandmother’s peonies that were replanted in a garden long after she had gone. Other times it’s a houseplant that belonged to a relative, or a cactus that was inherited from a friend who moved away.

Sentiment aside, houseplants have enjoyed immense popularity of late thanks in part to pandemicinduced loneliness. ‘Plantfluencers’ are now a thing on Instagram. Cacti have seen their fanbase grow so much over the past decade that a black market trade and underground cactus cartel has popped up to meet demand.

Danbury even has its own Connecticut Cactus & Succulent Society which hosts monthly meetings for local xerophiles. Chris Allen, president of the society, said they saw their membership grow over in the years before the pandemic. They have roughly 150 members now.

“I get the sentimental attachment to it,” Purcell said. “It’s a long time to keep something alive and to be able to pass it along – it’s not just something that you tuck away in a closet to take out and look out once in a while.”

Purcell herself has a Christmas cactus cutting from her grandmother’s cactus. The original plant, now well over 80 years old, resides with Purcell’s mother. The cactus’ offspring is now in Purcell’s newly renovated sunroom in her house, where she said he was very happily sitting at that moment.

Purcell did the same for Arden’s plant, taking a few cuttings from the branches they removed, just in case.

“That way, if something happens to the main plant, then you still have another generation of it that’s living,” she said. “I think it’s important for people.”

When she tends to a sentimental plant, Purcell works carefully and respectfully, knowing the emotions that can be attached to a plant such as Arden’s.

“I explained what I was going to do before I did it, [telling them] ‘this is why we’re going to do it,’ and made sure that they were okay with it,” she said.

An outpouring of support

Now recovering from surgery in a new pot by the entrance foyer, Arden’s cactus seems happier.

Arden updated the Facebook group telling them the good news: Purcell’s house call had saved his plant’s life. The post received nearly 300 reactions and dozens of comments.

“Colleen went far beyond what most would/could do and not only transplanted the cactus and removed all of the terminal parts but safely transplanted it to a much healthier environment. She also calmed my‘mishagos’ and catastrophizing about the long term fate of the cactus,” Arden wrote. “Colleen, what you did… a true example of WHO you are as an extraordinary person. Thank you!!”

The comments poured forth with residents snapping pictures of their own cacti— several many decades old— or sharing stories of Purcell’s work. Arden said he was overwhelmed by the response.

“We are working with her on a dying tree we planted in my mother’s memory and hope for the same good results,” one resident wrote.

Arden said his experience with the community was uplifting; it was the story of a community that rallied around him to save something he cared about. There was no debate, no division, just neighbor helping neighbor.

“The cactus was a catalyst for change,” he said.