So many lovely stories on this thread, thanks everyone for taking the time to share.
My first and still favorite flower is daffodil, my grandmother had planted a row of them right beside our garden, and I adored them. They were the only "useless ornamental" that my dad could be bothered to keep around, mostly because he knew how much I loved them. When I arrived to what I thought would be my forever home here in southern Chile I planted a row of them beside my garden in honor of those two people, who are now gone. Then when I was deciding where I would go when I needed to leave that home, I knew the place when I arrived to a driveway lined with flowering daffodils.
When I ran across a dogwood in a local nursery, I had to buy it and plant it despite the price because it reminded me of hiking with my mom through a forest of flowering dogwood as a child, while she explained the symbolic meaning of their four-petaled flowers.
Now in my new life, which has been full of difficult new starts, I find pride and peaceknowing that I am surrounded by the orchard of fruit trees that my dad always dreamed of having.
Others that always make me stop and pause, rich with nostalgia, are tomatoes (never could get over the smell of a crushed tomato leaf), blackberry (even though they're invasive here and I've been forced to start chopping them), plantain (the first medicinal herb I identified and used), and probably a hundred others that I'm forgetting at the moment.
I always swore that the first man who bought me a dozen red roses would be eliminated immediately for his lack of creativity, but I do love growing roses. They tell me that in her younger years my grandmother was an exceptional rose gardener, and it's partly because of that that my first tattoo was a rose. They also remind me of my father-in-law, a sweet old bachelor who loved his roses and would proudly cut me a bouquet when I was around. Can't beat wild rosehip jelly either, no matter how many times you get pricked picking them!