Gardening cultivates memories of mom
MY mother gardened the old-fashioned way. When our next-door neighbor’s daylily bed needed thinning, she helped dig the bulbs out and then planted them in our garden. She shared the big black seeds from her Four O’Clocks, her amaryllis, crocosmia and the deep-purple larkspur that came back year after year.
Her cutting garden was framed by a bounteous Lady Banksia rose that cascaded over the fence, perfect for sharing cuttings.
While I inherited her love of flowers, my garden addiction usually means picking up a plant (or two) every time I go to the grocery store or nursery. My eclectic garden is filled with bedding plants — instant color.
While something was always blooming in our garden on Tonawanda Drive, Mom’s method was not about immediate gratification. She planted little ranunculus bulbs in the fall, planning ahead for spring; anticipation of the lacy sprouts and soft pink blooms was half the fun. She watered her hydrangeas every day, adding sulphur to bring out the blue. We bought packets of zinnia seeds, planted them and watched to see how many would make it.
Every time I work in the garden, I think of something she taught me.
Flowers bring a bouquet of memories. Here’s what readers think of when they think of Mom.
“My mom loved red roses,” said Pam Romig, who lives in Waller and serves on the board at Peckerwood Garden. “She always told my dad to giver her red roses.” One of Romig’s favorites is ‘Dame de Coeur.’ Her mother lived in Colorado, and Romig and
her sister had planted a red rose in front of her home. “When my sister drives by, if it’s blooming prolifically, she’ll call and say, ‘Mom’s thinking of us.’ That was my mom. She was a special lady.”
Tania Oshman thinks of her mother when she sees poppies in bloom. “My mom planted poppies in her first garden, for a profusion of red. I’ll never forget it!”
For Marisa Ramirez, it’s daffodils. “My mother loved their elegant lines — how they swayed in the wind like ballet dancers,” she said. “She loved their beautiful color … not quite yellow or orange, but a color that changed with the sun. She always said daffodils were happy. Seeing them makes me happy — and makes me miss her very much.”
Jacqueline Altobelli pictures a garden full of white roses when she thinks of her mother, Florence. “Strong, tall, full and beautiful.”
Gardening expert Kathy Huber says hydrangeas and daylilies remind her of her mother in Georgia.
“Orchids will always make me think of my mother, said Bennie Flores Ansell, Houston Community College art professor. “When I was a child and didn’t feel beautiful because I looked ‘different,’ my mother told me, ‘Remember that you are the orchid among the daisies.’ This has stayed with me my whole life. I love when my orchid plants reflower year after year, reminding me of their unique beauty and my mother.”
Ansell, her mother and her daughters each carried orchids in their bouquets at daughter Thora’s wedding last year.
For Bellaire writer/ editor Charlotte Perry Aguilar, lilacs bring back memories. “My late mother loved them, and my dad bought her a lilac bush — instead of just a bouquet — one Mother’s Day when I was a child in suburban Los Angeles. We keep a Mexican-style ofrenda at our home to honor departed family and friends, and I have a lilac-scented candle as one of the recollections of my mom.”
Heidi Helton Rockecharlie said gardenias bring her mother to mind. “Mom’s hedges were made up of gardenia bushes, and I can smell their sweet and spicy fragrance just thinking about her.”
Toni Floyd’s mother, who grew up in Georgia, loved gardenias, too. “They would wear a gardenia in their hair on dates — for the perfume,” she said.
Yaneth Martell thinks of her mother Ana when she sees tulips, which are her favorite flower. Pansies were Gerry Simons’ favorite, daughter Stephanie Blake said. For Edith Williamson, it’s gladiolas and daisies. “Peonies!” said Debra Grierson.
Laura Tolley’s mother planted irises — “the oldfashioned kind,” she said. “She planted the bulbs around the perimeter of our backyard, and they bloomed in all kinds of different colors in spring. She cut bouquets for us, her mom and friends. I never see irises like those anymore.”
Barbara Canetti’s mom, Pearl, loved Lilies of the Valley — “delicate flowers with a delicate aroma.”
Antiques dealer Robin Lindberg’s mother loves periwinkles. “She says they remind her of the beginning of warmer weather. They are strong, will grow anywhere they are planted and reach to the sun for support.”
Lissa Robison’s mother, Jolene, is a transplanted Texan, so bluebonnets are her flower. “My mother often spoke of the fields of bluebonnets with such fondness, I can still see the photo in my mind’s eye of her in her youth in a field of bluebonnets and orange Indian paintbrush.”
Sandy Reece-Everett’s mother had a green thumb. “Anything she stuck in the ground turned out beautiful,” she said. “When we were growing up, she loved to get cuttings from her friends of beautiful flowers they had in their yard. Our yard was always filled with colorful flowers.”
The other day, as I was thinning the everspreading crocosmia I got from my mother’s garden, I decided to offer some to my co-worker Joy Sewing. Molly Glentzer shared peony poppy seeds from her garden in Brenham. Claudia Feldman gave me my “Maggie” rose bush. And Kathy Huber says she has a cutting of her Peggy Martin rose.
Maybe I’m just like my mother after all.