Spathiphyllum wallisii

The Peace Lily

The peace lily, not a lily, but an arum, is so named for its white inflorescence, reaching tall above the glossy green leaves of the plant, waving like the white flag of surrender. Perhaps that’s part of why the plant is also known as the funeral plant. After all, every one of us will one day surrender, hopefully peacefully, to death.

Flowers and plants have been common at funerals and in burials since prehistoric times. In Ancient Egypt flowers adorned tombs, statues, and even mummies themselves. For example, collars made of flowers were found in Tutankhamun’s tomb around the necks of funerary statues as well as in the more recently excavated KV63.

From The Metropolitan Museum of Art

The Ancient Greeks decked their funerals out in wild celery, and even crowned the dead in its stalks. According to Atlas Obscura, uttering the Ancient Greek phrase deisthai selinon, which literally means “to need celery,” was declaring someone close to death.

Wild Celery

The Ancient Romans favored roses and violets as funerary flowers and often planted roses next to tombs. A touching and heartbreaking epitaph on one Roman tomb reads:

“Here lies Optatus, a child ennobled by devotion: I pray that his ashes may be violets and roses, and I ask that the Earth, who is his mother now, be light upon him, for the boy's life was a burden to no one.”

On the left: Viola odorata, and on the right: Rosa gallica

The Aztecs believed that Mictecacihuatl, the Lady of the Dead, would allow spirits to travel back to their family from time to time, and it was the scent of the marigold that would lead them back. For that reason ofrendas erected for Dia de los Muertos always contain marigolds.

I could go on, The Smithsonian reports that graves in Israel dating from 13,700 to 11,700 years ago were lined with flowers, and there are so many more cultures with burial practices stretching back for thousands of years that include flowers. So it’s no wonder that we still include them in death care today.

As for the Spathiphyllum, I’m not sure when it became a popular plant for use in funerals, but my guess would be the Victorians are to thank for it. The plant was first introduced to Europe from Venezuela and Columbia in 1870, nine years after Prince Albert died and sent Queen Victoria into her forty-year long mourning period.

And it makes sense, too, with those dark green leaves and that solemn white flag of surrender, no plant has more decorum and grace than the Spathiphyllum. What’s more, the plants are extremely easy to care for. They can survive on low light and low water, and given optimal conditions, will flower all year round, even indoors. So they can be a lasting reminder of a loved one after a funeral.

I’ve got a standard Spath and a variegated variety. They are two of my favorite plants, they always look good, they don’t really have pest issues, and they’re forgiving if I forget to water.

Here’s a close up of a variegated leaf. They have such an interesting texture, and this guy flowers pretty often, too.

That’s it for this month, don’t forget to check out the 100% Plant-Based Horror publishing schedule below and consider a paid subscription to support my work.

So that’s it! This month’s plant will serve as inspiration for the paid posts in my 100% Plant-Based Horror sections. Here’s the break down, in case you’re new and/or curious.

First week of the month - The Lab (that’s this post!) - Free for everyone

Second week of the month - The Witch Lab (a short, spooky piece from a plant witch’s journal detailing one of her experiences helping (I use the term loosely) a client with the featured plant) - Paid subscribers only

Third week of the month - The Spell Book (an entry from The Witch’s spell book detailing how she uses this plant for her dark magic) - Paid subscribers only

Fourth week of the month - 100% Plant-Based Horror story featuring the month’s plant. These are longer stories that include everything from ghosts, to parasites, aliens, experimental supplements, and more! - Paid subscribers only