for him.

dear sweet children,

i am twenty-two and at home. i am five months from twenty-three and will probably still be here. i am living off of the gratitude of my parents. and i am thankful. they have poured me milk and have left me the back parking when i am out late. i am typing on this computer because of them. i have internet access because of them. but it is difficult sharing a home with two people who don't much like each other anymore. who have suffered difficult lives. who have offended each other. who have shut one another out. who cannot hold a conversation about much.

when comparing you to your father i want it to be good things. you are creative, intelligent, curious, adventurous, spontaneous, goofy, philosophical - just like him! you honor people the way he does. you have a rough sort of affection like he does. they might not be those specific things but they will be good things. you will surely mimic all his nettlesome habits but i will not rattle on about those. i will correct where correction is needed, but i will praise you for the good things. i want you to know that i love your father. and that life and marriage can be a tumble at times but that i am for him. i want you to see - even when you are twenty-two - that we work with eachother not against eachother. i will share my bankaccount and not just my bed with the man i marry, the man you know as your father. trust, sweet ones, trust will be something tangible and bright. it will make us resilient. we will be a team who makes decisions together. we will hold each other and you will see by the way he tickles my sides and the way i trace the backs of his ear to his neck that we are a team. you will see by the way we argue. and the way we make up.

at twenty-two i want to be honest with you about the road. i want to confide in you that the road is this or that. i am not sure of the road yet. i am not on it; i am not married. but i know some things of importance. and i have some hopes for what it will be like, even on those bad terrible days where i'd rather be in alaska than right where i am. which is saying a lot, because i shiver easily.

with love,
a twenty-two year old who is praying tenderness into her parents, who is showing love to them when they cannot show it to each other, who is hopeful for the future.