What a wonderful memory. I am growing some phlox and I have no idea where their beginning was. I just know my mother was given some back in the 50's.

You know the old song, "Little Things Mean a Lot". They surely do. Those are the things that stay in our minds forever.

I checked out your "My Page". I would love to be able to grow roses but around here they require much more care than I can give them. I do have one antique rose. Have not idea what the name is but it is a semi-runner and pink. Smells wonderful when blooming. Maybe next year when it blooms I will make pictures of it and post them on the Rose Forum.

My father was from rural Delaware. When I was small he'd drive us around and tell us about who lived in the various houses along the way - in southern Delaware everyone knew everyone. Because I was young I didn't understand that time passes and that mostly he was speaking of ghosts, living ghost lives. Now that I'm older than he was then, I've had a chance to reconsider this thing called time, and perhaps that little guy wasn't so wrong. My father is in the sound of the killdeer by the side of road, the heirloom pole limas growing out back will always be my late friend Ed's, and I see my mothers face when I shave in the morning. It is these things that color our lives and make us who we are; and these ghosts, I can't go anywhere without them. So I don't know what time is, and I don't know what the past is. And for the life of me I can't tell a small thing from a big thing, that is something for time to decide.

flowerpowereverett: Yes, memories are precious. I mentioned in another post that I have been a hummer lover since I was a youngster in Kansas. My mom, (Who passed away at the young age of 50 twenty-nine years ago.), is the one responsible for getting me interested in hummingbirds. Who knows . . . maybe she's responsible for the many visitors we get each year!

Frank

wardw, I live in Delaware. Southern Delaware still has the charm of killdeer and the heirloom beans growing. I promise. It hasn't changed so much as to forget such beautiful moments in natural history. Your memories are beautiful.

Those are lovely memories! I grew up in Philadelphia and my dad showed me a hummingbird in our garden at his flowers there were no such things as hummingbird feeders When I saw that tiny green bird I thought it was a bee. Now I thank my father for my love of hummingbirds Last year I lost my fiancee of 12 years and He love watching the hummingbirds almost as much as me And when the first male ruby throat returns in spring his sister says that's Bert coming back. Sarah

What a nice story you shared here. I enjoyed read it and all of the additional posts.

Maureen

I loved reading about the shared memories! I have a young lilac bush growing in my yard, that my father rooted for me from a bush HE grew from a cutting from the lilac bush that grew in his grandmother's yard. (I know, that's a convoluted sentence!) He's also in the process of layering a new rose bush from the rose bush he started from a cutting from the same grandmother's rose bush. I also have a young willow tree that was started from another starting willow of the weeping willow that grew in our backyard when I was a child. Every time I see the lilac bush or the willow tree, I think of the ties to my childhood, and my father's family.