A Letter Saved, Year 2103 – by Rebecka Pettersson (Adult)

My darling Beth, I don’t want the truth to be hidden from you like it was from me. I write this to explain why I’m not there as you wake up tomorrow. I hope you can understand and, in time, possibly forgive me.
For as long as I can remember, my parents have grown lavender in their backyard. The only smell I knew as a child was lavender and in truth I grew to hate it. One time I discovered my parents’ old books on various flora and asked why we never planted something else but the replies I got were evasive or none at all. Soon the books disappeared from the shelves.
We were a close family, but every Sunday one of them made a day trip somewhere and I was never allowed to ask about it. Not until I had my own family would I really start to question my parents’ behaviour. It seemed absurd to me that they would actually miss a birthday or picnic with us, to travel. However, this had been their way of living since before I was born and they refused to give me a satisfying answer for a long time.
Then, a week after your grandfather’s passing, my mother called for me. Her energy had dwindled and I’m certain she knew she had only a matter of days left. She handed me a box with the books they had hidden from me and said that, unbeknownst to many, lavender had all but disappeared. She and grandfather had dedicated their lives to grow theirs and travel to give seedlings away or sow new ones elsewhere. Apparently, others did the same with different plants. A quest for diversity, they called it, to bring back what once had been lost.
So. This is me picking up where they left off. I have decided to bring as much lavender as I can carry with me, and travel for as long as I must, to establish new lavender fields. Because without diversity in nature our future, your future my dear Beth, cannot thrive.
Love, dad.
Learn more about the author:

 Rebecka Pettersson


Learn more about the contest which inspired this story:  Fleur 2020-06 Lavender
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