My mother’s likes and dislikes are not just memories for me – they’re imbedded in my own preferences. They go bone deep.
Maybe this is one of the ways a person lives on. Not just through memories but through the influence of their choices.
Planted near the farmhouse was a lilac of legend. It was reputed to have come from England on a ship with my great-grandfather, Joseph Biggs, my Grandma Hall’s father. He planted the first cutting in Glastonbury, Connecticut where he lived and worked and where my grandmother grew up. After my grandmother married my grandfather and moved to the farm, my great-grandfather Joseph planted a cutting from the English lilac at the back of the Hall farmhouse.
Joseph Biggs, sometime before he came to America in 1888, photo curtesy of Donna Palmer
The lilac was a deep dark purple – a very unique bloom, and highly prized by my mother. So when we moved to our own land on Whirlwind Hill, she planted a cutting behind the garage. It thrived. It was a lovely tree. I took this photo of a branch amongst a bouquet of lighter lilacs and dogwood in 2008. You can see the darker lilacs reflected in the mirror.
Whirlwind Hill Lilacs, 2008
Seven or eight years ago I pulled a lilac “sucker” from a dark purple lilac planted by a friend here in Anchorage. Because of my mother’s strong preference for this color lilac, I had to have one. The property where it was growing was being sold, the building demolished, and the tree transplanted, and I wanted to see if I could grow my own dark lilac. (The last I heard was that the transplanted tree didn’t survive.)
My husband and I have watched the baby tree every year for signs of flowers. Finally, this spring, we were excited to see buds. The friend who planted the original tree died this past winter, and it seems fitting for the tree to bloom in her honor. I’m sure my mother and my friend who both loved these English lilacs would be happy about their legacy.
Anchorage Lilac, 2014
On Monday: Doing Dishes
Oh Carol, what a wonderful story of love and memories. Those dark lilacs wish to keep living don’t they? You are so correct in saying that this little bush bloomed in honor of your neighbor. I really enjoyed your story today.
Thanks Netzy. And I hear congratulations are in order. You have a new grandson?
Boy, you sure nailed it in your first two sentences. SO TRUE. (At least … so true for me, too. And I’m glad of it …. most of the time.) I have a few photos of the Crump lilac at the back of your parents’ garage. Wish I could upload them here so folks could see that gorgeous lilac-descendant, but I’m sending them to you via email so you’ll have them. Wonderful post, as always.
xoxoxo
Thanks Margy. And I think that tree is actually two trees now. It gets great light and warmth there on Whirlwind Hill at the back of the garage.
And the passing on of the preferences is a mixed blessing, I agree.
I, too, remember our special dark lilacs. In fact, I still look at all other lilacs with a touch of judgement. “They’re pretty, but.. . . you know, they’re not really like the ones I grew up with!” My parents had a shrub at the end of the house and, every year when I was in elementary school, I would take a big bouquet of them into my teacher. I meant to dig a section from our shrub to bring to Ohio when we sold the house, but we ran out of time and didn’t do it–one of those decisions you make when you’re tired and under pressure that you regret forever.
You know – if that tree is still there near your old house I can ask for a “sucker” next time I’m there and send it to you. Sometimes regrets can be remedied. Or I can give you one from the tree down the hill at my parents’ house. I remember there always being a big bouquet of lilacs on the dining room table on the farm, and I think they were in the same white pitcher, or something like it, that is in the photo in the post. The fragrance was so wonderful.
Yes!! I would like that!
I will ask Kirt next time I talk to him if there are any suckers to pull up. Maybe he will be willing to do it. This is the perfect time to get one, I think.
So lovely the dark purple lilacs. And fragrance ? My madeline memory associations are all with the pale purple blooms and their unforgettable scent!
You know, this is a very good question. I can’t remember. I’ve always thought that those iconic lighter colored ones had the best smell. We have one lilac growing in our neighbor’s yard here in Anchorage that has the very best smell. Some of the others not so much. The dark one hasn’t opened enough yet to be able to tell.
We had lilac bushes on either side of the house I grew up in. They weren’t deep purple but I was in thrall to the smell and asked my mother to cut some for me to take to my third and fourth grade teachers. I love the way flowers weave in and out of your blogs. I remember violets as well, thinking back to one of your earlier entries. Little hands could pick them and make bouquets for our mothers. And was it Lydia who wrote of the flowers (was it Martin) took to his teacher, “I think they will make her smile?” What a lovely visual. Much better than saying she thought they would make his teacher happy.
I look forward to your entries, Carol.
Oh, thank you Mary. It was Lydia jane who wrote those words. It was my Uncle Francis (my mother’s older brother) who picked the flowers for his teacher. I have learned much about writing just from reading Lydia’s journals.
Flowers seemed such an important part of the joy of life on the farm. Even my grandfather picked them to bring in to my grandmother.
Love the lilacs and the bone deep mother connections. Yes, most of the time. I miss lilacs. There are so few here in Chapel Hill. Too hot. Two doors up from my childhood home was “Lilac Lane.” Well named.
I would like to walk down “Lilac Lane.” Alaska has a very good climate for lilacs. They don’t start blooming until end of May, but because of the cool nights, they last a long time. I think I would miss them if I lived in NC, but you have many other things in the tree world that must make up for it.
Oh my…you touched my heart & memories…My dad told me Grampa picked these lilacs for Grammy Biggs …your visualization, wow! Grampa was a romantic…a man ahead of his time. He loved Grammy Maud till the day she died, sigh. She was his one & only. They came to America on the second Santa Maria. Thanx so much 🙂 your cuzin’
You’re so welcome, Donna. It’s been so much fun to hear more about my great grandfather and his family. It adds a whole new dimension to my picture of my grandmother Agnes. I sure wish I had been able to meet her mother, Maud. I have a couple of letters that she wrote to Agnes, and she sounds like a very loving woman.
I love your thoughts about lilacs! I always knew that Patti preferred the dark purple ones but I never knew why. And now I do! I am so enjoying your blog – thank you for sharing your memories of Whirlwind Hill. Especially now that my childhood home is being dismantled bit by bit, the memories are even more precious.
I love being able to share all these memories with you. It made me so sad the last time I was in Connecticut to see your old house being dismantled. What a beautiful spot that was. You grew up with the best view on the hill, that’s for sure.