All The World's A Stage - A Collection Of Monologues #4

BARRY: 
Hello, neighbor! I live just down the street. Right at the corner on the top of the hill. My house is the one on the right. Yes, yes, the purple one with the yellow veranda out front, and the wind chime. My son sent it to us. He bought at in Afghanistan when he was stationed there.  Anyways, the purple house down the street - that's me. And I, well, I don't know if you noticed, but my plants... my sage and basil... they're not looking too good. I don't have a green thumb, I'm afraid. My wife is... WAS the one with the green thumb in our family. Bills I can handle, dinners too. I'm a master at laundry. Even hand wash, really! But gardening... I don't have it in me, and Rebecca is probably yelling at me up at the heavens for killing her favorite tulsi plant. Some people call it the money plant. You know it? Anyway, see, I'm a widow. And when Rebecca... left us, left me... she didn't leave a manual, a guide, an instruction book on how to tend to plants. She was so good to them, Rebecca. So good. Treated them like they were her children. loved them, talked to them. She even sang to them once or twice. And they grew bigger and more beautiful in her presence. My wife, see, she was a simple woman. With simple goals, and wants, and needs... but how she made others feel was her biggest wealth. She was rich in love. And she had the greenest thumb I had ever seen. Until one day I saw you and your exquisite rose garden. Lovely. Just lovely. Your green thumb must be at its prime. 'Prime'. Hm. I am well past mine, but my wife used to tell me 'it's never too late learn something new...' 
 I want to make her proud of me, up in the heavens.
​So... will you give me some gardening tips?