why I am

In honor of Valentine’s Day, my Dad shared the letters he wrote to my Mom nearly 50 years ago, after hearing about her from a mutual friend. Five months later, they were engaged, and now nearly 40 years later, I Am. He adorably, formally over-shared, said his nose was covered in pickle-sized warts, spelled her name wrong, spoke of her beauty, and she fell for it all. I love my parents. I miss letters. Elation is more than just a word.

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