From my perspective as a Peace Lily, my roots are my entire life support system. They are not just anchors holding me in place; they are my mouth, my stomach, and my lungs, all hidden beneath the soil. Through a vast network of delicate, white, and fuzzy root hairs, I drink water, absorb essential nutrients like nitrogen and phosphorus, and even breathe. A healthy root system is firm and creamy-white, often with vibrant green tips actively searching for resources. This hidden world is where my health truly begins, and it is the first place to suffer when conditions turn against me.
The primary cause of my root rot is a simple, terrifying reality: I am drowning. This happens when my pot becomes a swamp. The most common reason is overzealous watering from my caretaker. My roots need both water and air; when water fills all the pore spaces in the soil, my roots cannot breathe. A pot without a drainage hole, or one that is saucer that traps water, exacerbates this by creating a permanent bathtub around my root ball. Furthermore, if my soil is too dense and heavy, it compacts around me, holding onto moisture for far too long long after watering, even if the intentions are good. This oxygen-deprived, waterlogged environment is the perfect breeding ground for the true villains: opportunistic soil-dwelling fungi, such as *Pythium* and *Rhizoctonia*. These pathogens attack my weakened, suffocating roots, causing them to decay and die.
As my roots begin to rot and die, my ability to function collapses, and I must show distress signals above the soil. The first and most telling sign is my leaves. They begin to wilt, drooping pathetically as if they are thirsty. The cruel irony is that this happens while the soil is still wet, because my rotten roots can no longer absorb that water. My leaves, once a deep, glossy green, start to turn yellow, often beginning with the lower, older leaves. The most definitive sign is the condition of my crown and roots themselves. The base of my stems, where they meet the soil, may feel soft and mushy. If you were to gently lift me from my pot, you would see the horror: my once firm, white roots have turned brown or black, feel slimy to the touch, and may fall apart easily. A foul, musty odor emanating from the soil is the smell of my decaying body.
If you catch my distress early, there is hope for my recovery. The treatment is an urgent surgical procedure from my point of view. First, I must be gently removed from my waterlogged prison. My root ball needs to be carefully cleaned under lukewarm, running water to wash away the infected soil. Then, with a sterilized pair of scissors or pruners, every single rotten root must be cut away. This means removing all the brown, mushy roots until only the firm, healthy white roots remain. It may feel drastic, but it is necessary to stop the decay from spreading. After this surgery, I should be repotted into a clean pot with fresh, well-draining potting mix specifically designed for plants like me. The pot must have adequate drainage holes. Most critically, after this traumatic experience, I need time to recover. Do not water me heavily immediately. A light watering to settle the new soil is all I need, and then you must allow the top inch or two of soil to dry out before watering again, giving my remaining healthy roots a chance to heal and breathe.
