When my eldest was a year old, I began writing an annual Christmas Eve letter. They were tucked away to be delivered, one per year, from the time they left home. They've left home. Here's the story.
“I find myself in the stained glass room of the heart where the best writing is done and the true prayers come from – the ones filled only with gratitude.” Sigh
This was especially dear to read because my parents also had an annual letter-writing tradition, starting with my bro’s and my 1st birthdays, through 18. I have them all in an album and though it wasn’t intended, are quite an historical account of our parent’s lives, struggles, and chapters. Even the 1987 letter from dad, scratched on a prescription pad, brief, apologetic, but still aching with love. I read them now to learn more about their “stained glass”hearts, than I do mine.
Kimberly, I love your comments, and I'm always delighted to get one of our little notifications that you've been on my doorstep. There are volumes in your note above. It's beautiful that you have their letters. Words mean so much to all of us here. To have them from our parents - as their best selves - is a blessing. Merry Christmas.
Smiling with a plate of invisible Christmas cookies on your stoop. Happy holidays to you and yours and the heavy metal albums that keep your wonderful synapses aglow.
“I find myself in the stained glass room of the heart where the best writing is done and the true prayers come from – the ones filled only with gratitude.” Sigh
This was especially dear to read because my parents also had an annual letter-writing tradition, starting with my bro’s and my 1st birthdays, through 18. I have them all in an album and though it wasn’t intended, are quite an historical account of our parent’s lives, struggles, and chapters. Even the 1987 letter from dad, scratched on a prescription pad, brief, apologetic, but still aching with love. I read them now to learn more about their “stained glass”hearts, than I do mine.
Your children will cherish The Letters.
Kimberly, I love your comments, and I'm always delighted to get one of our little notifications that you've been on my doorstep. There are volumes in your note above. It's beautiful that you have their letters. Words mean so much to all of us here. To have them from our parents - as their best selves - is a blessing. Merry Christmas.
Smiling with a plate of invisible Christmas cookies on your stoop. Happy holidays to you and yours and the heavy metal albums that keep your wonderful synapses aglow.