Legacy Perennials

Have you ever thought about “legacy plants”—perennials, most likely? This term is a way to signify the plants that cause us to remember someone we love. And, similarly, they (whichever ones we happen to like best) are the plants we hope might spark thoughts of us.

Memorial Day isn’t what got me thinking about legacy perennials, though it does make the focus a timely one. Instead, it is the fact that I just ironed pillowcases that my grandmother cross-stitched for me ages ago. I unearthed them from a storage nook where I had kept them, and my son saw them and said firmly, “Oh, I want those”. Now, this might seem odd—someone young showing an interest in something so old-fashioned—but it’s not the “look” he’s going for. It’s sentimentality that has prompted his interest. It’s the idea of having something special to remember someone—in this case, someone he never had the chance to meet.

Plants can be sentimental reminders of those we’ve loved. I have Siberian Irises from my grandfather on the other side of my family, and those plants have traveled with me to four different homes. The Irises went from one cousin to me, and I planted them at my parents’ house for safe keeping, later digging up a division for myself. That division got large and beautiful, and portions of it have gone with me to three different homes of my own while I also left a little behind at each site. These Irises are legacy perennials. Some of the moves I made with these plants haven’t been easy. At one time, I dug them up on the fly, on a moving day when there was almost no time left to get them out of the ground; at another time in my life, I dug them up as the mercury was dropping and I wasn’t sure they would survive the cold, but in new soil, they settled in; and I dug them up yet again when I was expecting the baby, now no longer a baby, that I write about above. But I’ve never forgotten those plants. And as legacy perennials, they’ve helped me to never forget my grandfather.

Do you have plants in your garden that you love so much, you’d be happy if they were a reminder of you? They can be a living legacy—legacy perennials for the young and vital… nothing to do with Memorial Day and those who have passed, but plants that will be associated with us now, a little later, and then perhaps much later. 

The Siberian Irises I cherish were known to be a favorite plant of my grandfather. I am told that he talked about them, and he divided and shared them in the prime of his life. Those who got a clump of his prized Irises felt special. At this point which seems like eons after his passing, they are still being shared among family members who don’t receive them from my grandfather’s own hands—I, for one, didn’t, as he was gone before my birth—but the giving and receiving, the digging and replanting, keep his memory very much alive.

No large family? It’s okay. Friends can know a lot about our likes and dislikes, and they can become “family”. We can share with them, and eons after we do, we can expect that that sharing might do something to preserve our legacies. To some, talking about preserving a legacy with a plant may seem silly. But to gardeners, plants have meaning. Gardeners will care about legacy perennials when others might not. Care, they will.

What might some of the best legacy perennials be? That depends on your taste, on what you like best. But for enduring legacy perennials, Solomon’s Seal divides well and is prime for sharing. Dicentra plants, or Bleeding Hearts, look delicate but can be divided easily. The shape of their flowers makes them a good candidate for joining the ranks of legacy perennials. And some Ferns have incredibly long lifespans, a characteristic that is certainly helpful for plants we aim to pass on and on. But even if a plant’s expected lifespan is just a decade or so, divisions will keep that plant going strong for much longer. Siberian Irises, left undisturbed, are supposed to last for about ten years. What gives? How can my grandfather’s clump of Irises from so long ago still be producing purple blooms? It’s the divisions and the creation of “new” plants from the original that permit this to be. Hence, these and many other plants are all fine legacy perennials.

Thinking of legacy perennials doesn’t mean one is thinking of mortality or the relentless passage of time. Thinking of legacy perennials means that a gardener wants to remember those who are important, and that a gardener also wants to to be known, loved, and kept in mind. Isn’t that every gardener… every one of us? And aren’t special plants one way to do this?

Have a meaningful Memorial Day weekend. I’m heading back to the ironing board to fold those pressed pillowcases.