Griffin and Sabine. Which I won't go into. It's gorgeous. I own them all, come over and we'll read them together. In lieu of love letters, I have been tempted to send the Griffin and Sabine books. I haven't had the courage.
I have a ton of letters I'm aching to write and send. Some are sweet, some are angry. I should send a love letter, I should tell my mom what I really think. I'd like to ask a few friends why they stopped talking to me. What was it, what did I do. What do I need to do to make it right? Letters to people I haven't seen since forever.
I have an even larger stack of the letters I'd like to respond to that only consist of edits. I had a long inner rant about one email I had no idea who it was from, who or what they were representing or even referencing. I actually guessed correctly the person, the company and what they were talking about. Then I got back an even more hideous email. I stomped around the house yelling out, "Dear Debora, I am from X company. I'm writing about the email you sent our company on X date. I would like to discuss the matter with you further. Here are the times I am available. Love and Kisses, Name, company and phone number." I know texting is the wave of the future. And of more crap communication.
I'd love to send letters to those who have died. How is heaven? Can you come back for a visit. Would you get in my dreams more often?
This is the most I can do, write a blog about writing the letters I should write. Or the books I should send.