​Her Lavender Gift

My dearest child, my brightest star,

I knew your soul would travel far.

Though my time was brief, my love ran deep,

In lavender’s bloom, my vows I keep.

I lined my closets, filled each space,

With lavender’s calm and tender grace.

At markets, I’d guide your tiny hand,

To scents and colors you’d understand.

Around my home, the gardens grew,

Each violet stem, a gift for you.

For I foresaw, with a knowing heart,

That I’d not be there as your life would start.

I planted lavender, soft and sweet,

A fragrant path for your soul’s feet.

In every breeze, its whisper calls,

To guide you through life’s towering walls.

I saw the man you’d one day be,

Strong and kind, and wholly free.

So I left my love in each purple hue,

To comfort, to anchor, to see you through.

Now inked upon your skin, it stays,

A tribute to those early days.

A mark of love, a steadfast sign,

That my spirit lives in your design.

Though I’m not there to share your stride,

I’m in the lavender, by your side.

Its bloom, a promise, its scent, my prayer,

Forever with you, everywhere.

—

Author Note:
Her Lavender Gift is a tribute to my grandmother, who brought lavender into my life with quiet purpose. From gardens we’d visit to sprigs in her closets and trips to farmers markets, lavender became a constant presence. I believe she introduced it intentionally, leaving a subliminal message of love, comfort, and support for me to carry forward.

As I’ve grown, lavender has taken on even greater meaning, tied to my identity and community as a gay man. I also got a tattoo of a lavender sprig in her memory. This poem honors her foresight and the lasting connection we share, reminding me that her love remains, in every bloom and sudtle perfume.