I have hundreds of bright orange day lillies - straight from my grandparent's yard, 800 miles away. 26 years ago my mother shipped them to me as tiny plants, when we first bought our house. She packed the baby bulbs in zip-lock bags, and enclosed a wet sponge to keep them alive as they traveled from Long Island to Louisville. Each spring, as they push up through the ground, I am reminded of many happy memories from my grandparent's home. I lived there when I was 2 years old, while my father went to Japan in the Air Force. There were always day lillies in that yard. We used to sit together on a glider swing out in the back yard. It was wooden, painted white. And Nana made homemade lemonade.
We have split up the day lillies, and shared them with friends and family. Now my daughter has her own home, and her yard is bursting with day lillies from her great-grandparent's home. They are a piece of the family tree that will always be with us. They are a treasure from years ago, when the blooms would wave in the breeze while we all sat in the yard. If only they could tell the stories from those days.
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