The Correspondent

by Virginia Evans

I will say, it surprises me how much I like President Obama. He’s a wonderful speaker, I could listen to him read the phone book.)

And yet, if one has committed oneself to the page, the tragedy I’ve just laid out will not apply.

I wonder, Harry, are you asking if I am lonely because you are trying to find a way to tell me that you are? Don’t worry, dear. You can simply tell me.

You would think I’d have it down to memory by now, but for some reason the only part that stays word for word in memory is the bit about being born at dawn under a pink sunrise. Isn’t that lovely? Makes me miss a thing I never really had.

In addition, I noticed you’ve changed your hair. It’s very elegant.

as well as a new box of the good Smythson letter writing paper, envelopes, and a fountain pen. This is the way I will prevent you from ever moving our ongoing exchange to e-mail.

(Of course it occurs to me from time to time, at odd times really, like a little bruise,

Grief shared, I think, can produce two outcomes. Either you bind yourselves together and hold on for dear life, or you let go and up goes a wall too high to be crossed.

I’d like to hear from you. Not a demand, merely a hope, but either way, until we meet again, and I believe we will—we must—with love,

Remember: words, especially those written, are immortal.

I had a moment when I was reading the letter again thinking about all the letters we have exchanged—those boxes in my closet!—and thinking how if we pieced them back together we would have a MASSIVE decades-long tale to tell. Probably boring to anyone other than ourselves.)

we drove to Baltimore a few weeks ago to try a German bakery there called Oma’s.

It’s just that now, this thing that has been woken, I can’t seem to lull it back to sleep.

You were right when you said that sometimes writing something difficult is easier.

(Mum was always writing and receiving letters)

I’m sorry I didn’t do better. I know you think of me as your mother only, but please remember, inside I am also just a girl.

I have found it to be absolutely astounding, all the trouble living has turned out to be. Things

My dear Sybil, We didn’t address this when we were together last night, but just to say, I would be honored to accompany you to Paris. Yours, Theodore

It would be lovely if you were here. Of course you know I’m yours, have been for quite some time, with affection, Sybil

Her life, she said to me only very recently, had become so full these last few years, and yet I know that from certain things, now she is free.