this morning #1572.
this morning, the stack of letters from my dad sat on my bedside table. i got home last night, started going through them, thought about my plan to burn them & just couldn’t do it. what tipped the scales was one letter he’d sent to me for my tenth birthday. in it, he spoke about the new job he’d recently got. for most of the year, he’d been unemployed. stressed. now he had a chance at stability. his words seemed balanced. rational, even. he gave me some advice about staying strong. “never stop trying.” i hadn’t noticed it at the time but, looking back a half decade later, i think this may have been a high point for him. when i actually follow through with my plan, i’m keeping that letter. burning it won’t help me feel better.