I want to remember fearlessly wearing my pink and green rubber boots to Flower Day 2010, where I shared my love of flowers at 5:00am with 250,000 of my closest friends at Eastern Market in Detroit, MI.
I want to remember making many bouquets of lilium 'Silk Road,' 'Touch,' and 'African Queen' and that intoxicating smell of them in my kitchen.
I want to remember my son in the garden this year - running his small hand up a frond of russian sage to capture the smell, hanging out with me while folks toured our yard, building this clubhouse for him among the plants and him asking me if he, too, could be my daylily friend someday.
I want to remember the sparkling jolly ranchers in my great-grandmothers century-old bowl, waiting to be enjoyed by garden visitors on tour days.
I want to remember the HUGE swallowtail butterfly that flitted about hundreds of daylily buds in my garden when I didn't have my camera.
I want to remember the sunsets and rainstorms and words said (and not said) that made this summer really memorable.
I want to remember my few stolen moments alone with a daylily icon, Charles Applegate as he chauffeured me around Kingwood Gardens in a golf cart and pointed out qualities in daylilies he found distinctive. Being stranded there for hours when our tour bus broke down was a surreal experience and I am so thankful that Kimberly and Nicole were there to share the experience. Not sure I would have survived the same without them.
I want to remember the generosity of my gardening friends - sharing daylilies, sedum, hosta, allium, creeping jenny, forget-me-nots and more. I hope I was equally as generous to others.
I want to remember the joy in my dad's voice on the phone as he described all my seedlings blooming at his house 500 miles away from me with so much detail that I could almost smell the blooms. He grows all the daylilies I have hybridized myself, and they have brought some focus and purpose into his life after a medically-forced retirement and for that, I am eternally grateful and so very proud of him.
Mostly, I want to remember the laughter and tears shared in the garden this year. I have to believe the laughter and tears feed the garden just as much as the water and the fertilizer does.