Mother's Day

My first memories are of my mother holding my hand walking in tall multi-colored flowers. A lady we knew always had these tall zinnias growing in her yard. To this day I can't look at a flower without thinking of her, my Aunt Jane and my grandmother. I think that is the beginning of this passion I have for flowers. My yard is full of flowers from divided plants in her and my aunt Jane's gardens. These women nurtured me, taught me and loved me.
 I have memories of the raids on old house lots about to be bulldozed with a shovel and a prayer that the plant would make it. All the giggling as we dug into the soil and carried off our treasures. Laughing about being arrested for grand theft plant.  As you grow older you suddenly find yourself thinking about all the things your mother has done for you and with you. All the pain you have suffered together, all the joy and all the things to come.  My love of plants comes from a long tradition from mother to daughter,  aunt to niece...I can hold in my hands the plants that have been cultivated in my family for a hundred years. You may see just peonies and iris and tulips but I see my mother, my Aunt and my grandmother.  I see Family...