We ran through the woods laughing, crying, and living.

Sent on by
Ann Del Vecchio
Send Your Own Message

Dear Donatella,

I want you to have all the wonderful, joyful, and live-giving gifts the Earth has to offer and that I have experienced growing up.

Born in San Diego and transplanted to Virginia I have known the ocean, seaweed, kelp, sea urchins, sand dollars, crabs and rocks, glass, and shells of every color, size and shape. In Virginia I ate puckery unripe persimmons, made ink with poke weed berries, and built houses and forts all over the forest around our home. My sisters and I baked tiny loaves and cakes of clay and dirt bread, ran from copperheads, rattlesnakes, and cotton mouth water moccasins. Oak and ash, sycamore, maple, elm, and pine trees made lovely shade and places to climb and read while eating fallen apples and pears.There were creeks to wade in and clouds to watch. It rained a lot but the wet and cold didn’t stop us from trying catch rabbits and foxes. We ran through the woods laughing, crying, and living.

Today in Albuquerque where you were born I gauge the drought and the heat of a six month summer now in terms of its effect on you and your future. You have lived here all your life and I have lived all my adult life in the high desert. I watch the snow and rain grow less and feel the dry summer heat that is so relentless and worry for your future. I love this place and plan to “die in the dirt” here. I know you love it too.

I promise to walk more, ride my bike more and drive less. I promise to build a home with Pop-pop that is solar and designed to have a tiny footprint and run on renewable energy. I promise to use less plastic and petroleum products and to recycle everything I can. I promise to keep your future and the climate of the Earth at the forefront of my daily life and to do everything I can to leave you a legacy and life worth living with the animals, plants, air, and water to sustain you and your children.

Love,

Grandmom

Share on:
 
Send Your Own Message

More Messages to the Future

 

Dear Tomorrow,

I promise to educate myself and others about how we can protect and nourish our 1 PLANET

 

Dear Tomorrow,

I promise to ride a bike and take a smart train.

 

My Mini & Lou,

Since I first sat down with these words, a pandemic has erupted. Racial violence is reaching a fever pitch and protests are raging across the nation. It feels like the planet is succumbing to entropy, slipping further into chaos. But I write to you from a time of shifting tides.

 

Dear Future Me: Only open after March 4th, 2050

I don’t regret my past ventures, nor do I believe I will regret my future ventures, but I’ve learned that I’ve needed to manifest these experiences into actions of sustainable development and conservation and protection of our environment.

 

Dear Cherie,

I promise to plant 5 trees every year just to make sure I don’t leave a carbon footprint.

 

Dear Tomorrow,

And, if this summer has taught me anything, I am content (because I have to be) living in this limbo, this seemingly endless waiting for the opportunity to change, when really the opportunity exists within our very selves all along.

 

Dear Elliott,

We’re moving into uncertain times, and your dad and I worry. A lot. But you’re keeping us going. You’re pushing us to make better choices and not give up.

 

Dear Lalo,

I hope whatever happens, whatever I can’t imagine that you may face, that you will continue to seek light.

 

Dear AC,

I think a lot about where the right place to live is.

 

To my dearest Gabriel,

What gives me hope is what is yet to come, what you will experience in your lifetime.

 

Our Shared Promise

I will act today so you may have a healthy earth to live on.

 

Dear Nieces, Nephews, & Future Children…

If there is any advice I could give you, it is to believe that although you are one single person in this world, you still have the ability to make a difference in this world.

View All Messages

Send Your Own Message