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Letters

Fri, 4 Nov 2011, 06:41 PM (-06:00) Creative Commons License

“Oh, I got your letter,” he said. “I liked it. Thanks.”

I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that and was trying to remember what I had written (as it’s been a several weeks) when he continued.

“I really liked it, because it reminded me of…”

Reminded him of what?

“…it reminded me of when you used to write me those think-plan-do-finish letters and send me those Lego-man postcards.”

I remember think-plan-do-finish, but I’d forgotten writing letters exhorting him to avoid the procrastinating ways of his father. And I’d completely forgotten the Lego-man postcards, although I can picture them now—hand-drawn, 3-D, Lego-like characters tinted with colored pencils.

I was smiling in the easy chair in the dark of early evening on the other side of the living room from Trudy. I tried to wipe my eye discretely so she wouldn’t see.

“Oh, Ben,” she said. “Your dad’s all weepy.”

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