I was listening to a podcast this week called Grownups Read Things They Wrote as Kids. I don't think you would have been much of a podcast listener, but you sometimes surprised me, so I won't assume. Anyway, one of the grownups read a series of letters she had written to a fictional friend who had died. They were sweet, and funny, and tender, and sad. And I thought, "I should do that!" And as with most of my brilliant ideas, I gave it a couple of days to see if it was really something I thought I should do. I still like the idea, so I want to start writing you letters.
This is not some sad, pathetic attempt to stay connected to you. I know you're gone and won't be coming back. I'm pretty level-headed like that. Besides, I have pictures, and memories, and that quilt you made me that never fails to receive compliments whenever I bring it out, and that one olive green Tupperware from the 70s that I am keeping until it literally disintegrates to help me stay connected to you. But I kind of like the idea that maybe I can just write to you and keep you updated on my life. Plus I think this will be an interesting way for me to work through some things. To get some thoughts down on paper, as it were, and grapple with this messy, complicated, exciting, stressful life that I seem to have ended up with.
Anyway, I'm meeting some friends to see some free Shakespeare, so I gotta go.
Love and miss you. I'll write again soon.