I couldn’t help but look at the calendar as the day approached.
Three more days. Two more days.
Though only ten, she felt it too.
Only once did she ask me why she had to go, why she couldn’t live with me.
The question floated over my sea of bitter resentment me like a scrap of paper drifting across a bed of molten lava, burning away before it could touch.
I swallowed.
You just can’t, honey.
Later, I dragged out my old Hermes Rocket and started the first of many letters to her.
You can’t save a box of emails.
Since my daughters moved away in 2013, I have written more than three hundred letters to them, typing almost all of them. They seldom write back, but that’s not why I do it.
Densely layered, Joshua. I liked the turn to the technology of the past to preserve the future
thanks!
Something so much more real in a physical piece of paper with words than a screen full of those same words. I hope they feel it too…
Thanks!
Dear Josh,
So much said in few words. You’ve layered a lot of story between the lines. This just hurt my heart. Good job.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Thanks, Rochelle. I remember finding letters my grandfather wrote to my grandmother while he was courting her during a 1927 drive across the country in a Model T. I wish I had the letters, but I think they wound up in the Arizona Historical Society along with the other family papers.
Such a charming idea – those letters will make quite a memory and history in the years to come.
I certainly hope so. Thanks!
That’s so true, that line about saving the letters and not saving the emails. There’s a different quality to a box of papers to leaf through, to smell, the physicality of it. How many of us reread emails, look at pics on our phone. But a box of physical letters where the person who wrote them actually touched them, there#s a magic to that. Lovely, sad, beautifully written
Such a poignant story, given that it’s based on your real experience. I used to be a prolific letter writer – especially when I moved to another country. It’s true that e-mails don’t have the same ‘reality’ that physical letters do.
Susan A Eames at
Travel, Fiction and Photos
Wow. The hurt and sorrow are overwhelming. I hope you at least get to see them sometimes.
THE worst part about divorce. The rest is irrelevant. You did an excellent job of conveying the strong emotions. And you are so right about emails vs. snail mail.
So much in this short piece. I have a huge archive on my laptop of letters/responses. I seldom go there – it would be too haunting. But the fact that I can…
My kids were taken from me when they were very young, so I can relate to your tale. Keep writing.
You have described the emotions so well. The last line is so true.
I could repeat what everyone else has said. Instead, I shall say thank you for sharing a part of you. I have a box of letters from friends and ex-boyfriends. Every now and again, I take a look-see.
So sad. I had a thought to start writing real letters during the lock down. My husband lived in France for a couple of years. Hidden in the house somewhere we each have a pile of letters. Maybe one day we’ll join them back up. I remember going places and doing things when he was away and thinking, now that didn’t quite work out but I could put it in a letter. Keep well!
You use both your technical skill and your raw grief to create a really powerful story. It’s very moving.
thanks, Penny
You have set me thinking…It is special to handle such items, truly e-mail just don’t have the same nostalgia.
Keep doing what you’re doing. You’ll never be forgotten. Beautiful. Words on paper touch the heart no matter how many times they are read. :)
Beautifully done. I don’t know when I stopped writing letters, maybe it was with the advent of emails but I still have some letters written to me by my parents. They are treasured. Maybe I should scan them for safe keeping.
A very sad tale, but a wonderful idea to type letters so she (and your children) can keep them. Love this!