Tuesday, March 22, 2011


You are right. It was once upon a not so long ago that growing fields of lavender was my dream. Images like the one above, dramatically purple heavenly scented bouquets of lavender, captivated my imagination...my soul...

There some things in our lives that never happened that we know, in our bones, could have happened. Maybe a would have been lover that never was, maybe a takeover of the family business that didn't happen, maybe a farm on family land that could have grown your dreams, that never did.

That being said, somewhere, very far away from the original lavender fields of my heart, there is land asking to be grown on. There is lavender waiting to be cultivated, cared for, introduced to little grabby hands and pressed against smiling faces to smell.

In a way, I am even closer to my lavender dreams. I can walk outside my door and plant it. I can fly to Provence in 2 hours and buy the species of it I want. I can start here and return it there. That family land, still growing, my father keeping the earth worked and ready, will remain, like an open invitation. Even after he is gone and I am gone, maybe one day Sophia will run and fall in the middle of the field grasping at strands of lavender all around her, shaking and smelling them compulsively, desperately trying to remember the lines on my face and the stories I told about her grandfather. Maybe Mae will grumble upon her and urge her up, mumbling about her sentimentality but secretly wishing away with all of her soul to be able to return to that one summer that mama planted that crazy lavender filed in front of the white house in Tamaris...

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