Chapter Eighteen: Letter from the Shire

Sam felt a strong urge to come to the beach one afternoon some years later and arrived just as the bottle washed ashore. He sent a prayer of thanks to Iluvatar and Lord Ulmo as he reverently picked up the bottle.

Frodo stood beside him and gave his own thanks. “Oh, Sam...”

The younger hobbit carefully removed the stopper and pulled out the tightly rolled parchment. He looked upon his eldest daughter’s fine handwriting for the first time in decades and ran his finger along it before reading it slowly, over and over again.

Hello, dear Sam-dad. Maybe you already know this, as you said more than once you could feel things from Uncle Frodo and maybe you could feel this too, but your first two great-grandchildren have been born!

Elfstan had a daughter, Violet and Frodo’s son, Holfast, had a son himself, named Harding. They are most fair. I think I see your eyes in Esme and Harding is nearly his gaffer’s own image. I hope these pictures do them some justice. I know you were still with me, wonder of all wonders, at least when they were born, for I would have felt your death and I believe, even fainter, I can still feel Uncle Frodo in that one spot in my heart that has always been his since I was faunt. Say hello to him for me, please.

Everyone here is well and send all their love. There are now so many Gardener’s you wouldn’t believe! We still get together every year and it seems every year there are more to celebrate. Except for the very youngest, everyone can quote entire sections of the Red Book from memory and more often than not, these days, I hear tell of first words spoken are those from the Book! Each year part of our celebration is to watch some part of the book acted out. It makes us all feel closer to you. Uncle Merry and Pippin would come often and sometimes even act out their own parts. I wish you could be here to see them all and to hear the arguments that break out over who gets to play you and Uncle Frodo! Just like old times. I wish the joy of those days would never end. I hold them dear in my heart, with all my other memories of you.

I miss you and love you so much, Sam-dad, so much. The Red Book is safe and has been copied many times already to ensure it is not lost. There is a copy at Great Smials and Brandy Hall and Uncle Pippin brought a copy with him to the King when he and Uncle Merry left the Shire. I miss them too. It seems all the hobbits I adored all my life, besides my Fastred and my own bairns, have left and the Shire seems less bright because of it. I wish I could be with you, Sam-dad, with you and Uncle Frodo but I know that is beyond me. Still, it is as you said when Uncle Frodo left, you have not truly left me. You and he and Uncle Merry and Uncle Pippin are still here. I see you and hear you when I go to the mallorn tree you planted. I hear your voice so strong and loving when the children read out loud to themselves or each other from the Book. I don’t remember how Uncle Frodo sounded except in my dreams sometimes when I hear him sing, but I imagine his voice also and I remember the others too.

I know you are happy where you are. I feel it in my heart and I know you have had many joyful years now with your treasure, as we had many years with our treasure, you and Mum. I know now how you must have felt to let him go, just as we felt when we let you go. But the happiness you hoped awaited him allowed you to let him go, just as your hope let you go. I can only be glad you have had many more years where you are now, that you wouldn’t have had here. A year, perhaps two, I would guess and we would have to say goodbye. How can I not rejoice that your life went on?

The tears running from Sam’s eyes made it hard to read, but he continued on. “Yes, Elanor, I am happy,” he murmured.

Fastred sends his love as do all the children.

Your first flower, Elanor

They had all signed their names. A babe’s footprint stood in for Violet's. Sam ran his fingers over that for a long time before he kissed the letter and held it tight against him.

Frodo hung up the pictures in Sam’s bedroom, with all the others Elanor had sent whenever a new child had been born. They nearly covered one wall. “I’m so happy for you, Sam.”

Sam looked at all the pictures. “Thank Iluvatar and you and Rose and everyone else. I must be the luckiest hobbit in all history.”

“One of them at least,” Frodo said with a wide grin.