Uncovering Roots: How Family History and Gardening Can Nurture Well-Being

Gardening can nurture well-being, but what about genealogy? Exploring family history may give us context for the stories, traditions and patterns that shaped the generations before us.

Imagine inheriting an old house and discovering an attic filled with letters, photographs, and documents your family had tucked away for decades.

Some are ordinary.

Others reveal things nobody ever talked about.

That was the premise of a historical novel I read several years ago. A couple inherited the husband’s father’s home and discovered an attic filled with family papers connected to Germany and the Sudetenland. As they dug deeper, they encountered troubling pieces of their family’s past.

The husband eventually wanted to stop looking.

His wife didn’t.

What interested me was that both characters had studied psychology, and she saw value in understanding what had happened within the family rather than closing the attic door and pretending it wasn’t there.

It got me thinking about two things I already love: genealogy and gardening.

We know that gardening can be good for our well-being.

Could digging into our family roots offer something valuable, too?

Why Gardening Helps

I don’t need a scientific paper to convince me that working in the garden can change my mood.

But apparently science wanted paperwork.

Research has found associations between gardening and improved well-being, quality of life, social connection, and other measures of health. A large 2024 review of previous studies found an overall positive effect of gardening and horticultural activities on well-being, although the researchers also cautioned that the studies varied considerably in quality, participants, and methods.

Other research has found potential benefits involving social connection, belonging, and reduced isolation.

That makes sense to me.

Gardening gives us something tangible to do. We nurture something. We watch it change. We spend time outdoors. And gardening requires patience because plants remain completely unimpressed by our preferred schedule.

Genealogy has taught me much the same lesson.

What About Family History?

This is where I want to be a little more careful.

I don’t believe genealogy is therapy, and researching your ancestors isn’t a substitute for professional mental-health care.

But family history can give us context.

When we research an ancestor, we stop seeing only a name and two dates.

We may discover that a grandmother raised children during the Depression. A great-grandfather lost several siblings before adulthood. A family repeatedly moved because work disappeared. Someone immigrated and never saw her parents again. A widow suddenly had six children to support.

Those discoveries don’t explain everything about the generations that followed.

But they can change the questions we ask.

Families Pass Down More Than DNA

Families pass along traditions, stories, recipes, and photographs.

They also pass along attitudes and behaviors.

How did the family handle money?

Was grief discussed or buried?

Were children expected to leave home or stay close?

What did the family believe about education, marriage, religion, work, or asking for help?

Which stories were proudly repeated?

Which subjects made everyone suddenly change the conversation?

Genealogy cannot tell us that one event in 1890 caused a particular behavior three generations later. Human beings are considerably more complicated than that.

But knowing what earlier generations experienced can help us understand the environment in which family traditions and behaviors developed.

Sometimes context changes the way we see a person.

The Difficult Parts of the Tree Matter Too

One of the things I love about genealogy is that our ancestors refuse to cooperate with the version of history we’d prefer to have.

They were people.

Some did remarkable things.

Some made terrible choices.

Most probably did a little of both.

Family research can uncover poverty, abandonment, addiction, violence, incarceration, mental illness, estrangement, war, and other painful experiences. It can also uncover resilience, generosity, humor, sacrifice, and people who quietly kept families going through circumstances that would have flattened the rest of us.

We don’t have to excuse harmful behavior because someone was our ancestor.

And we don’t have to hide it either.

Understanding the circumstances surrounding a person’s life isn’t the same thing as approving of everything that person did.

Knowing the Story Can Change the Story

This is the part of that old quotation that stayed with me: the idea that understanding family patterns can give us an opportunity to decide what we want to carry forward.

I still believe that.

Not because genealogy magically diagnoses family dysfunction.

It doesn’t.

But awareness gives us choices.

Maybe you discover that several generations of women in your family sacrificed their own ambitions because that was expected of them.

Maybe you finally understand why financial security became enormously important to a family that had once lost everything.

Or perhaps you uncover a story that completely contradicts what everyone believed about an ancestor.

Sometimes family history gives us answers.

More often, it simply gives us better questions.

Both have value.

Roots in the Garden and the Family Tree

Maybe that’s why genealogy and gardening fit together so naturally for me.

Both involve roots.

Both require patience.

Both occasionally involve digging around in places where you have absolutely no idea what you’re going to uncover.

And neither gives up its secrets on command.

A garden can give us a place to slow down, work with our hands, and reconnect with the physical world. Researching family history can give us another kind of connection, one that places our own lives within a much longer story.

Neither fixes everything.

But both can give us perspective.

And occasionally, after enough digging, we understand a little more about what was growing there all along.