I want to say I didn’t miss the bells.
I don’t reblog much (actually, I never have), but this is my heart. Please read these words. This Hannah Brencher is pretty wonderful and getting the right ink on the right paper with the right pen and this is no exception.
“So sorry you missed Christmas– just sending a belated holiday wish! Good luck in St. Louis. You will be a smashing success!
Much love, Mom--”
I found the letter tucked in the side of my carry-on bag while waiting in the gate for a connecting flight. Little snowmen adorned the front of the envelope. The scribbles were familiar; they’ve been stretching across my memories for years.
She must have tucked the card, wedged it deep, when I wasn’t looking. When I was packing a bag or fixing my hair in the mirror. With every letter she leaves for me to find, my mama says “Carry me with you. I want to go wherever you’re going. I want to see whatever you’re seeing.”
“I feel like I already missed Christmas,” I said, tracing circles in the carpet just the night before. “I feel like it’s already gone.”
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