I had long assumed I had "black" thumbs, or, you know, that I was one of those people who couldn't keep a plant alive. My dad gave me a cutting of a cactus -- itself one that my mamaw had when she died -- and I nearly killed it in my dorm room before giving it back to my dad.
That very cactus made it a long time, by the way, until my dad was no longer able to take care of his many plants. The cactuses all died then.
In grad school, a friend gave me and my roommates another cactus. It was very cool, but, as it turns out, a novelty item that's hated by gardeners everywhere: it was two cactus species grafted together, and each required different conditions. I tried to take care of it but soon abandoned that to one of my roommates, who did fairly well. I think in the end she finally "picked" one of the cactuses and cared for it, allowing the other to die or get really weird.
So, imagine my concern when my dad, as above, realized it was getting harder to care for his plants and gave me several to take care of. He gave me a large jade plant and a pot of "false shamrocks," Oxalis triangularis.
Those are all still alive about 8 years later. the original jade plant actually may or may not be dead at the moment -- it's very hard to tell with them -- but I have three separate cuttings, one of which I'd given to my mom and is mine again after she died.
During a vacation, a friend of my partner's plant sat for us, and noticed the shamrocks trying to propagate, so she plucked them and put them in a new pot. So now we have two.
We also have a small pine tree, an aloe, a bamboo (my partner's from before we met), and some plant my partner rescued from her old job that I don't know by name.
We had a garden before we moved, too. My mom, on the phone, after my dad died but before she did, told me I was like my dad, that I could grow anything I wanted. I'm somewhat proud of that, though I don't think I'm all that good. My attempt at potted basil this spring failed. But I have, at the least, a partially "green thumb"