My grandmother Penny treated her garden like a family album. The peonies marked the year I was born. Lavender lined the path because she planted it after recovering from surgery. Roses beside the porch celebrated her anniversary, and white daisies appeared after my first school recital.
When Grandma died, she left me the lake house with a note: “Keep it lived in.”
I repaired what broke but preserved the garden. My husband Zac understood what it meant to me. His sister Kelsey did not.
Two days before her wedding, Kelsey
