Silver Moon grows here because in 1923, my grandfather brought a bouquet home to my grandmother from his friend's plant. She liked it, he rooted it and grew it on the wire fence that shielded his chickens and rabbits from the street during The Depression. Of course, they couldn't eat theirs, so they traded with his friend. My mom and her two older sisters played in the shade that monster created. He was accidentally killed in 1935 when mom was five. Every Father's Day, they took a bouquet of Silver Moon to his grave. I'd love to say this is a piece of his Silver Moon, but that wasn't meant to be. The iris and narcissus which populate my sisters' gardens are from my grandmother's garden in Birmingham, Alabama. I did have a piece of my grand dad's scuppernong and altheas from my grandmother's garden in the old Newhall garden, but they went away when that garden was dismantled. My R. Fedtschenkoana came from Joan Kennedy, an old Huntington volunteer who passed from brain cancer. She was worried about her garden not receiving the attention it deserved, so the volunteer group spent a Saturday there cleaning, weeding and taking care of her roses. I'd sought Fedtschenkoana all over and no one had it available. I should have known Joan would have it. I think of her often when breeding with or just enjoying it. My middle sister has the gasteria I was given when I was ten by a friend of my mom's. She grew a succulent garden on her coffee table and this plant fascinated me. It looked like little, dark green cow's tongues. Little did I know it would grow to the full size of cow's tongues. She also has the Ceropegia woodii, or Chain of Hearts a co worker gave me for my birthday in 1976. My youngest sister grows the Earth Song I mentioned in another thread, which was propagated from a plant Dr. Buck gave a gentleman who supplied it for propagation. There are still a number of Ralph Moore roses here he shared with me, which were never released. Of course, I also grow two of the rose he named for me. "Kim Rupert" grows and flowers without issue. I think of both Ralph and Paul Barden when I enjoy it. Ralph had sold it as a $2 seedling as it hadn't shown its stuff to his satisfaction as a two inch plant. Paul bought it and found it was too good not to take a second look at. Ralph agreed, so he gave it back to him. It's continuous flowering, striped and mossed, so it was perfect for 'my' name. Then, there are the roses I've been permitted to name for loved ones who are no longer here. A night blooming cerus shared by a friend who passed from cancer nearly forty years ago. The Joseph's Coat shared by Edward Marsh's grandson as a "thank you" for helping him try tracking down more of his grandfather's roses. Edward Marsh introduced Red Sweetheart, Lady Ann Kidwell, Dancing Doll, Cl. Yellow Sweetheart and Pasadena Tournament, among others. R. Arkansana "Peppermint" and the Spuria Iris, Amethyst Highlands, both gifts from Annie Laurie McDowell grow here as they have in several gardens. There are memories every where you look. Kim

That is too cool Kim. Plants are to be shared and the memories associated with them long remembered.

Kerry (also a guy) LOL

Great thread, Gryhwk!

We used to have "Myrtle Gentry" peony while I grew up in Michigan. I have fond memories of my Dad picked a bouquet of peony to put next to the Virgin Mary statue while he prayed the rosary.

I ordered "Myrtle Gentry", and paid good money for it. But it died through the winter. My putting alfalfa meal in the planting hole really hurt that peony.

Thanks, Kerry. I was raised with many "southern traditions". Sharing your garden was one highly stressed. Each plant shared, became a memory. "Pass along" plants are usually the healthiest (almost invasive!) plants in the garden. Sharing was promoted as making your garden flourish, which, of course, is true. Everything eventually requires thinning and pruning. "Sharing" requires thinning and pruning. Plants which flourish to the point of requiring thinning and pruning usually are the more vigorous, persistent types. So, yes, your garden is healthier, more vigorous when shared. Many things were simply referred to as "Mama's iris", "Gammie's rose". It took a bit of detective work to sort of many of the names. I can only hope in some of these gardens, someone may remember, "Oh, I got that from Ginger, Kim's mom."

And, it was always stressed to NEVER say "thank you" for any plant. That was the one, sure way to insure its death. "I appreciate it" is completely safe and acceptable, but never "thank you." Kim

I have a China Rose that we collected in the small cemetery where my G-Grandfather is buried, with his second wife (my grandfather's stepmother) and several of their children and other relatives and friends. He donated the land for the cemetery, the church, and a school that no longer exists.

I don't think it's anything truly exciting, but it's a pretty thing, and it means a great deal to me, and my cousins.

Jeri

The only thing I have is a rose my grandparent's elderly relatives grew on Cape Cod, MA. Still not identified.

{{gwi:297531}}

OH! And I have thanks to Kim a plant of the R. arkansana he mentions above. (See below) It's in the San Jose Heritage Rose Garden, too. And Alice Flores grows it on the NoCal coast.

And our "Night Blooming Cereus" (Selenecereus oxypetalum) came from some wonderful rose friends.

Jeri

My family and I of necessity have led nomadic lives which began in different countries in Europe so unfortunately I don't have a wonderful story like the ones shared here. My mother did have a rose garden she loved in southern California, but they were modern roses planted in rows, and never really touched my heart. What connects me to my childhood, however, is the evocative fragrance of lilacs, irises and carnations. Of the three I grow remontant irises, and without fail that fragrance transports me to another country and another time.

Ingrid

We own and live in a home which has been in my DH's family for 108 years. When we moved in 24 years ago, there were many surviving roses, as well as bulbs, etc, which came up every Spring.

With the assistance of those on this forum, and Gregg Lowery and others, I have gradually identified the surviving "family heirloom" roses in our garden, which were planted by my DH's grandfather and great grandfather. I can recommend these for those in a Mediterranean climate, because they survived with very little care for decades. Here is a list:

Le Vesuve - tea
Anna Olivier - tea
Duchesse de Brabant- tea
Marie Louise - bourbon
Cl American Beauty - hybrid wichurana
Cramoisi Superior - china
Mme Joseph Schwartz - tea
Safrano - tea
Dawson's Apple Blossom - rambler
dark pink Bourbon - possibly Eugene de Beauhharnais
Margo Koster - polyantha
Blaze - climber
Cl Peace - hybrid tea
Sutter's Gold - hybrid tea
Duet - hybrid tea

Of course, we have planted many more old roses, some of which I have collected from old gardens near our home. There is one remaining family heirloom rose in our which I have not yet identified. It is growing inside of a large Japanese quince bush, and puts out 1-2 blooms every Spring. I am trying to root it as we speak, so I can plant it in a better place. Meanwhile, here is a picture of a partially open bud. I will post a picture of the open bloom next - any guesses?

Jackie

Here is a picture of an open bloom - you can see the quince flowers in the background.

Jackie

The plants that ccme from near and dear, bearing memories, are the best, Gryhwk!

The seeds for a self-sustaining population of Lychnis coronaria on a very inhospitable piece of a hillside in my garden came my aunt Della's garden on a ranch in Mendocino County where she and my uncle (among the last of the true, old-time cowboys) were caretakers, years ago.

My Ulrich Brunner Fils came from a house in Sebastopol that my aunt Dot rented in the late 1950s.

My maternal grandmother populated the fantastic garden of her ranch in Mendocino County mainly with cuttings and trades from neighbor's gardens, cash being in short supply. My La Marne originated from there, as well as my stand of 7 - 8' tall orange tiger lilies which, as a child, seemed as tall as redwoods to me.

This-year's plants grown from cuttings off the Spray Cecile Brunner and a red "kind-of-looks-like-Fellemberg but-heaven-knows" China-looking-thing (I will likely post pics and an inquiry once it's big enough to actually see what it's like -- my daughter thought she was giving me cuttings from all the same rose, but surprise!) from the yard in back of my daughter's rental in San Francisco I already consider "heirlooms", in the sense that every time I look at them, I think of her.

I have two very precious plants, one from each of my grandmothers. Both dear ladies loved flowers and each led a very different life from the other. My maternal grandmother was a Polish immigrant; she never did learn to speak English all that well - but she sure did know how to convey love, bless her heart. She was a tiny bit of a woman and loved flowers. She hadn't much time for them when her children were young. They lived on a farm and while my grandfather was often away working on state road crews for the cash, grandma would keep the farm going. And mind you, that was farming with horses and with 5 small children to tend as well. I think of her as a true pioneer woman. If she could make something, she did. If she couldn't, she did without. I remember her love of flowers - her "magic carpet" of portulaca, with seed carefully saved in an old envelope from year to year. Likewise the bachelor's buttons that she could weave into amazing crowns for the girl-grandchildren to wear. And her roses. She would get a "start" from someone or other and tend it carefully. This is the only one that I managed to save. I don't know what it is for sure (gallica? centifolia?) but I'll never be without it in my garden, even though it runs like the dickens and has to be constantly corralled. I just call it 'Gramma Wala's Rose.'
{{gwi:226249}}

From my father's mother, I have a peony. I didn't get this directly from Grandma, but she gave a piece to my mother and years later my mother gave a piece to me. Poor Grandma fought for gardening space in a small Detroit backyard with a strong-minded man who also considered himself the best gardener around. Gramps "allowed" her to control a small strip of land along the side driveway while he filled the best of the space with his grape arbors, tomatoes and such. So Grandma made use of the space she had and there she grew a few roses and her favorites, the peonies. I remember some were huge pompoms, and she had many colors. This is my grandmother's peony:
{{gwi:297532}}

See any similarity?

How lucky you all are! I don't have any pass along plants but I do grow rhubarb, which reminds me of my grandfather. My Norwegian American grandpa grew up on farms in South Dakota and Illinois during the Depression and was still a bit of a farm boy even when ended up as a college professor in California. I remember him pulling out the lawn in his backyard to to put in raised beds for a vegetable garden (the first raised bed I ever heard of) and shelling peas with him at the kitchen table. He was also very fond of rhubarb, which is relatively rare here in California, and would make rhubarb pie, strawberry rhubarb pie and my favorite, raspberry rhubarb pie. Supposedly rhubarb doesn't grow so well in my area but last year I planted Glaskin's Perpetual rhubarb in an area well amended with chicken manure and it took off like crazy this spring. I've been making crisps and pies and am going to make jam soon. When I was buying canning supplies the other day the checkout lady inquired what I was going to can and I told her strawberry rhubarb jam. She thought that was funny, considering how young I am.

A rose I have a connection with is Cecile Brunner. Next door to my mother's house there used to be a vacant lot full of blackberries and and very vigorous roses. We would pick the blackberries for pie and jam. Eventually a house was built there but some of the rose remained growing in our hedge. As an adult I now recognize it as either spray or climbing Cecile Brunner. I have the more mannerly shrub form in my own yard.

I’m really enjoying all of the stories everyone is sharing. Please, keep them coming!

When I went up to weed Mom’s flower beds this Spring, I noticed a small vine with nickel size pinkish blooms crawling around in her rose bed. I planted that rose bed, and I knew Mom would not have tolerated a vine (she was funny that way), so I put my glasses on (yes, I’m a member of the bi-focal club and I don’t always wear my glasses when I garden) and took a better look at it. Hmm… the “vine” had thorns! Then it dawned on me. OMG this is what is left of one of Mom’s Austin Roses (the last couple of years have been very trying for us, Parent and gardening wise).! I looked for the other one and sure enough there was another “vine” growing where it used to be.

I dug up both vines and planted them in a pot and moved them to my house. One made it and one died. It really bothered me that I had lost one of her favorite roses, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I thought the one that made it was Gertrude Jekyll, but as it grew and as the flowers took on their full size and shape I realized I have no idea what rose that is… and I’m the one who bought and planted it for her 15 years ago! LOL

This year, I was weeding the bed again (still trying to sell their house, LOL) and my wife noticed that there was a small start of a rose where the “vine” of the rose that died used to be. I couldn’t believe my luck. There was a second chance to save one of Mom’s most loved roses.

I dug it up, potted it and moved it to my house. So far it’s doing fine. It’s putting out new growth and with any luck, will be ready to plant in the garden this fall. I know the name of this one: it’s Graham Thomas, a beautiful yellow rose that my Mom truly enjoyed.

I feel truly blessed to have a second chance to add this beautiful rose to my garden.

Kerry

I had a customer at the beach who referred to herself as a "Swedish import". She smuggled a piece of the Hoya her father's family passed around from generation to generation, grew it here for more than fifty years, and offered me prunings of it. Of course I accepted. And, of course, the thing rooted like the weed it is. I had it all over the green house at the nursery and we sold it as fast as we could root it. I've planted it at a client's condo in the Santa Clarita Valley, in a pot with a four foot trellis on her lathe covered patio where I was certain it would eventually freeze. Nope. It has gone great guns, flowering much of the summer. I whack it back out of the lathe covering regularly and she tucks the loose tendrils back into the mass regularly. I have a pot of it here at home, too, where it grows like crazy but hasn't flowered. I guess it likes the higher heat and colder winters up in the SCV? I always chuckle when someone reminds me "it's a HOUSE plant!", then I remind them, "in NATURE, there IS no HOUSE!" Kim

My only family heirloom plant is a Banshee rose, and it is well named. The darn thing is a curse in disguise. My family sentiment will not allow me to get rid of it, but the suckers it sends out put rugosas and gallicas to shame. To add to it, I have yet to see a single rose open successfully in my California climate. (It did open in Pennsylvania and Maine.)

I do grow the herbaceous peony Festiva Maxima partly in honor of my Dad, who found some at an abandoned homesite and brought them home to plant. It turns out to be a wildly successful peony here in my very different California climate. Besides, I think of my Dad every spring when they bloom. Great plant. I recommend it to anyone who would like to experiment with peonies in a dubious climate.

And I get my love of trees from my Dad as well. I wish I could spend an afternoon showing him all the trees I have planted on our hillside. He would take such pleasure in seeing them.

Rosefolly

I grow an old iris of my mother's. I remember her getting the division from a friend when I was a very little girl in the 60s. She was so excited because her friend was considered a "serious gardener" and my mom just knew this particular iris was "quality." This is my third home I've grown divisions.

It is probably "White City" (1937) Very austere with its 4' high blooms! I've never been able to develop any fondness for the more modern frilly irises after growing up with this one!

I was given a pot of 'Valerie Finnis' muscari, by Valerie Finnis - although I had no idea of her gardening stature at the time but I do still have many clumps of what turned out to be a fetching pale blue grape hyacinth. Apart from that, I have an ancient salvia microphylla (from Mr.Camps stepmother's mother (?) which has been propagated many, many times and passed along to so many friends it is practically a Cambridge feature plant. Also, every garden I have worked on now contains a lavatera in one form or another since it was the plant which kick-started my gardening life after my young daughter actually attempted to beautify the muddy, dog-ridden patch at the back of the house (obviously, I never referred to it as a garden). Sadly, I have no family of my own (parents, grandparents and that) but we (Reuben, my sweetheart and I) make up for it by being tight and close to the children we now have - where MY family begun.

I love threads like this! The pass along value of old roses is one the big attractions for me.

I have a Nearly Wild which my aunt ordered from ARE. She tried to root cuttings of the one planted in my grandmother's garden in the 1950's but the starts wouldn't take. I have Kwanso daylilies that traveled from grandmother to mother to me. I grow violets and irises from my mother's garden as well as a Zepherine Drouhin. This rose is the granddaughter of one I planted at my last residence. I sent a rooted cutting to my mother. Then I moved. Before she became ill, my mother rooted a cutting from her (now huge) Zepherine, I mailed it from TX to OR, and I planted it in my current garden. My sister is rooting a hydrangea from my mother's garden. My grandmother gave it to my mom when her garden was very young.

I also grow plants because gardeners who came before me loved them. My grandmother loved mock oranges, and I grow several.

Wonderful stories from you all!

Carol

I have no plants from family, none of them were gardeners, but I have roses that I think of as representing loved ones--for example I have 'Peace' because Granny endured terrible hardship in the war in Europe and as a result she loved peace more than anything, and 'Remember Me', because my Dad when he was dying of cancer said to me, "Will you remember me when I am gone? Please remember me," which tore at my heart--how could I ever not remember my dear Dad? I remember him every day. And 'Irish Hope', for a friend who was Irish and always hoping, and a rose planted in the spot where Cuddles would always sleep on summer afternoons. My garden is full of ghosts.

Hoovb

That's the most touching ghost story I've read in a long time.

Carol

I like this kind of thread, and I've often thought about asking similar questions in this forum. My entire gardening life exists as a monument to family sentiment. My father's parents kept a large garden, right at the edge of the ocean, where they grew all kinds of things that conventional "wisdom" defines as being "unsuitable" for coastal conditions. If that sounds romantic, it wasn't. It was purely practical. They had both grown up during the depression, both the children of Northern European immigrants- they were frugal, to say the least.
I don't keep a vegetable garden, but I can't eat a pea or a raspberry without thinking of my grandparents, and how much time they put into that garden all year long. They never looked at it as being a burden, or nuisance, or chore, the way so many people today seem to do (I just dont have the TIME-it's too much WORK). When I'm with my cousins, we ALL share very fond memories of time spent in that garden. But their flower garden is what I've tried to reproduce in my own life.
They grew a great deal of flowers, the kinds of things you'd expect people of that generation to have had in their garden, and they ALL have sentimental value to me. I can never smell honeysuckle without thinking of the back porch, where we'd change out of our filthy clothes before being allowed to sit at the table for dinner. Or the sweet spicy smell of pinks, which grew along the river-rock steps to the front door. The sweet peas and Nasturtiums, which Papa grew as a curtain of curly tendrils climbing up the sides of the front porch. The yellow dahlias which I chose for Grammy at the garden booth of the County Fair when I was 5- which she ALWAYS referred to as "Zachy Dahlias". She kept those dahlias, or identical replacements, in that garden for the rest of her life. And of course they had a rose garden, where they grew 'Peace' and 'Tropicana' and 'Queen Elizabeth' (grown against an east-facing wall, to keep them out of the wind). I have all of these plants in my garden, (even 'Tropicana' whose color I LOATHE, but my mother gave it to me, because she remembered), none of them coming to me directly from their garden though. It's still there, even though they both died long ago. The family won't sell the land, but they also won't maintain it, so it's in a sorry state, and I'm the only one left in the area. I tried for years to keep it clean, but I decided instead to re-create that garden on my own land. And that's what I've spent the last 6 years trying to do. Every one of the plants I grow feels like an heirloom. I'm probably TOO sentimental, but like my Grandparents, I'm also practical. I'd rather grow roses in the present than sit around and cry for things that are gone.

I love this topic!

None of the plants on the property came from relatives yards, although I do believe a few had brought plants home from ours. Of course the orange/red Pelargonium and the night blooming Cereus that grew in my Grandmothers window in Denmark just might have accidentally taken a ride in luggage past airport customs..... :)

I have purchased plants that I enjoyed while visiting her, the two kinds of gooseberries and the currant.

Or a rose that mom remembered they used to have at one time, like Peace.

We also have vinca because it used to grow wild on the family farm and when ever some one passed and the horse cart was taking them to the church to bury, the neighbors would pull the vines and place on the road for the final journey.

I think some of the hollyhocks are from seed we saved from the farm as well.

Of course there are many plants that remind me of who recommended them, gave them to us or we took a cutting.

I have a few I would like to have still, #1 being Mme Caroline Testout for my aunt Caroline who lived in Portland, loved the city rose gardens and loved roses.

Gryhwk, thank you for capturing the spirit of my feelings about pass along and heirloom garden treasures. When I visit a garden I love to hear the garden stories. Also among gardens tradition that are dear to my heart are the plants we grow to honor and remember loved ones and life events such as births and marriages. Trees I think make wonderful commemorative gifts. I’m deeply touched when I see cemetery plantings that have survived beyond the generations who planted them and I’m saddened that most modern cemeteries don’t permit permanent plantings. I wonder if many here have been able to plant a rose at a loved one’s grave. We lost my son a couple of years ago and although "shrubs" are not allowed in our cemetery I decided I had to sneak in a miniature rose. My son had autism and among his inscrutable habits was a fascination with sock monkeys :) When I was searching for a little rose to plant (Mother’s Love…Unconditional Love…or something of the purest white?) I happened upon Cheeky Monkey. Perfect. I hope it will last many years, but for now it makes me smile.

Hi Ratdogheads: I'm sadden by the loss of your son ... but that rose sure cheer me up. Thank you for sharing about your family ... I also enjoy the picture you shared in the other post. You have a very special close-knit family, and I appreciate your sharing with us... it warms my heart.