Archives for November 2018

On a chilly evening 18 years ago, after spending nearly every waking minute with Angel for eight straight days, I knew I had to tell her just one thing.  So late at night, just before she fell asleep, I whispered it in her ear.  She smiled … the kind of smile that makes me smile back.  And she said, “When I’m 75, and I think about my life and what it was like to be young, I hope I can remember this very moment.”

A few seconds later she closed her eyes and fell asleep.  The room was peaceful … almost silent.  All I could hear was the soft purr of her breathing.  I stayed awake thinking about the time we’d spent together and all the choices in our lives that made this moment possible.  And at some point, I realized it didn’t matter what we’d done or where we’d gone.  Nor did the future hold any significance.

All that mattered was [Read more…]

On a chilly November night 18 years ago…

I would have preferred not to write to you.  In fact, about a week ago, I put a post-it note on my computer monitor that said, “What would Skyman do?” (Skyman is my cat).  It was supposed to remind me not to do things that Skyman wouldn’t do.

Skyman would just wag his tail or wiggle his little nose and hope that whoever he’s wagging or wiggling to understands that he’s hungry, or lonely, or in love, or whatever.  But he certainly wouldn’t write a silly love letter to the coolest girl he knows.  Because he can’t form complex thoughts.  And because he’s smart enough not to be so stupid.

This evening, the post-it note fell off my computer monitor and landed on the floor.  And although post-it notes usually lose their stick after a few days, this one was different.  It was still really sticky and shouldn’t have come unstuck.  And it was light green, which is the color of your eyes.  These were obvious signs I couldn’t ignore.

So, I decided to write to you…  To tell you that [Read more…]