Each of the pass-along plants in my yard comes with a story.  The most powerful story, however, comes from the lilac bush, and with it, an unsolved mystery.

When my husband and I built our new home, my mother gave me a piece of the lilac growing at her retirement home on Island Lake in Michigan.  It came, she said, from a family member, though she couldn’t remember which one. It is an old-fashioned lilac, big, deep-rooted, with pale purple flowers in the spring, one sprig of which will perfume an entire room.

It used to bother me that I didn’t know which woman in my extended family my mother got the lilac from. Now I treasure that fact.

For the women in my family tree are all strong women, with guts and determination. They are rooted deep in faith. They are brim-full of love for their children and for the generations of children yet to come, and I treasure what I know about each one of them.

These were women who took on the county to try to get birth control for indigent women.

Who fought to get a consolidated school district in rural Michigan, to get a better education for their children.

Who sat on mental health boards. 

Who made cottage cheese and sold it to purchase school supplies for their children.

Who sang in the choir and taught Sunday School. 

Who dressed up after a long hard day and went to PTA meetings.

Who taught their children to successfully garden without access to soil supplements, fertilizers, and expensive mulches.

Who did somersaults with their children at the end of a long row of weeding in the vegetable garden.

Who taught neighbor women to make bread. 

Who hunted up the head doctor and told him, “this wound looks infected,” and saved a man’s life.

Who cooked meals, bathed babies, survived the hard times and delighted in the good ones.

Who nourished themselves by singing, by forming deep connections with other women, and by growing and cherishing beautiful plants and flowers in their yards, some of which still live on in my garden. 

Who gave me my DNA, my faith, a sturdy self-reliance, a hard work ethic, my love of beauty, most of my gardening knowledge, and my creativity.

I don’t know which family member that lilac originated from, but I don’t need to know.

It comes from all the strong women in my family tree.

As do I.