the secret stories behind grandma’s blooming bush
When I walk past my front yard, I always remember my mother’s glorious hydrangea bush. It stood as a symbol of our family’s roots, thriving through decades of harsh New England winters and humid summers. I still remember her pruning it with old, worn shears, passing down her quiet wisdom as we worked side by side.
Today, my own children look at that same spot and wonder why I don’t just order a new, fast-growing shrub online. They say, “Mom, there are better, easier options now!” But I can’t help but feel that the old ways—nurturing, waiting, learning from the land—are fading away. Is convenience really worth losing that connection?
Our neighborhood has changed, too. Some folks want neat, uniform lawns, while others, like me, cherish wild, native plants that attract bees and butterflies. The HOA sends out warnings about ‘overgrown’ yards, but I see beauty in the messiness. Isn’t there room for both tradition and progress?
As the seasons shift, and storms grow fiercer, I wonder if the new hybrids will survive like my mother’s bush did. Maybe resilience is something you can’t buy online. What do you think: should we stick to the old ways, or embrace the new?
#familymemories #gardeningdebate #nativeplants #Gardening
