rediscovering family roots in my backyard sanctuary

When I step into my backyard, I’m instantly transported to the gardens of my childhood—where my grandmother’s hands coaxed tomatoes from the earth and laughter echoed under the old maple. Today, I try to keep those traditions alive, but it’s not always easy. My children roll their eyes at my compost pile, preferring neat, store-bought planters and apps that tell them when to water. Here in the Midwest, our seasons are wild and unpredictable. Last spring’s late frost wiped out my peonies, but the neighbor’s new hybrid roses survived, sparking a friendly rivalry over which methods truly work. Some folks in our community believe in letting nature take its course, while others insist on perfectly manicured lawns—sparking debates at every block party about what a garden should be. Sometimes I wonder: is it better to stick with the old ways, nurturing heirloom beans and native wildflowers, or embrace the new, with drought-resistant imports and high-tech irrigation? My heart aches for the scent of lilacs after rain, but I also see the wisdom in adapting to our changing climate. This garden is my refuge, my battleground, and my bridge between generations. What does your garden mean to you? #familygardening #midwestgardens #traditionvsinnovation #Gardening