Postcards

Since sometime in September. Daily. Including while together over the Thanksgiving holiday, for the first time since August. He said he wanted postcards, not letters, though the postage is the same, with the exception of the ones the post office sells. On postcards, there can be no secrets, or interrogations. Even the postman or postpersons can see.

Catching up from seeing him over the holiday, so am continuing to write every day, as he had asked if I would on the days we were together as well, as if written on those days, talking about what happened then. It's all important, we both need to remember.

No time for real conversation with each other, or other family for that matter. Everything was on a schedule. Watching TV together is something many take for granted. For us it was special. Shopping, on the worst such days of the year, with unusual crowds compared to any other time. Only because he asked: definitely not something I would do alone. Not to mention owning multiple pets, that he had to break to me one could not go back with him as he had wanted. His first and only special one that he truly loved. She seemed sad not to be able to stay with him. Lots of effort to get them all packed into a car for a very long trip. It took all day before leaving that evening, to drive through the night.

Pouring rain all through Virginia and North Carolina, in the dark. It wasn't so cold that having the car turned off while napping so as not to fall asleep at the wheel made it uncomfortable without heat, and the rain continuing to fall helped a little. Which wasn't the same for the trip back. Ice was coming down in Delaware and exhaustion created a need for seeking out every other rest area.

Seemed like it was all nerves and adrenaline just to get on the road to begin with, anticipated and planned for weeks; last minute details demanding and tiring as well.

It was all worth it to see him jump out from behind the tropical landscaping to flag down the car, letting me know I'd found the place, followed by his grandmother, my mother, awaiting the arrival. It was almost a 'normal' holiday, for the first time in too long.

Still I write, like breathing, instead of talking, two at a time, sometimes from me, sometimes from the pets: hybrids of their points of view. All from me might be boring after awhile; from a pet can keep it interesting.

When next to know soon; whenever it is, it's still too long, and not right. Will keep the cards going as long as it takes, because he wanted them to keep coming.

Letter to Sun

Hello, oh producer of all things light and wonderful in our world; I send you greetings, love, hugs, and kisses in whatever order you prefer today, or tomorrow, or yesterday;

You’re a light, wherever you go; rooms change when you enter them, most always for the better. You know your power more often than not. I hope you’re able to laugh as quickly as much as possible, and provide warmth of spirit for others. You’re always a gift; your existence was decided long before I knew you.

I hope this is harder for me than it is for you; there’s never been so much time before now that we haven’t seen each other. It feels very strange, and sometimes sad. If you feel I’m there whenever you need me, there could be some comfort in that, if it were entirely true. It may be enough at times, though not others

Someday there will be more to understand; someday it will be easier. Now just feels like the caretaker of your domain is doing their job, amongst all the talismans of where you came from. I’m the curator of your treasures, some material, some irreplaceable.

I’ve also not written you a letter like this before now. It probably won’t be the last, though the style will vary according to what’s going on. I hope sometimes what I send you causes you to smile or laugh; I do miss that laugh. Like you, it’s the best.

This isn’t typical necessarily of the way I write; just wanted you to know how close you’re felt at heart. You are at my heart always, part of all thought and conversation in one form or another. This the closest I can be for the moment to shouting from the rooftops how special you are. If I really did that, you’d likely pretend you didn’t know me, maybe.

Right now, just a hug might be good enough. I hope you can let me know if your’re hurt or scared in some way, for any reason. I promise to answer, or call you back as soon as I come out of the subway; please keep in mind that if you have to try to reach me in some way from a number I don’t know, it will likely go to message, so please leave one or don’t hang up.

Of course, wishing a hug isn’t good enough most of the time. When we’re apart for now, I hope you can feel a little better knowing you are the sun, and all that is light and exceptional that same way in our world.

Yesterday, today and forever,

Your Planet,

inhabited by flowers (especially daffodils: Grandpa's favorite), bunnies with floppy ears, faeries with sparkly smooth wings that glisten from your warm touch, and your favorite treats on lots of blooming trees and plants, including hugs and kisses from your mom.

P.S. When hugs and kisses can be picked from a tree or out of the ground whenever you want, what do they look like?


Written to a child far away who has related their environment is ‘unresponsive’ compared to the home where they grew up.