I love books. I don’t get nearly enough time to do any “free reading” (as my teachers in grade school called it), but still can recall many novels I’ve read. I love that snippets of stories can be carried with you forever and ever. I love that words can summon emotion, stimulate imagination, still your heart. I simply love them.
I read a book a few years ago titled The Wednesday Letters, written by Jason F. Wright. It is a beautiful love story in which Jack writes his wife, Laurel, a letter of love every Wednesday. I won’t give the story away, but their three children discover these letters and the story unfolds from there. (You can read more about the novel at www.thewednesdayletters.com.)
The sparks between Kane and I were tangible on a Thursday night in April. I don’t know why this sticks with me, but week after week on Thursday I think to myself “Wow, another week in the books. I can’t believe how fast time flies!” And for some reason unbeknownst to me, I think “I should start writing him letters on Thursdays”, wanting to start a romantic tradition and recalling The Wednesday Letters and remembering what a compelling story it is.
Words are forever.
And here is my first “Thursday letter” for Kane:
December 20, 2012
The time we’ve shared together seems so short, especially when I think of what adventures lie in wait ahead of us. I love to daydream of our future together, both near and far. In the short term I envision us in a photograph standing side-by-side, proud of our first home purchased. I daydream of speaking the most important “yes” of my life. I allow my thoughts to venture far and even imagine a third pair of “pitter patter” under our roof. Closer to the present, I can see your smiling face in the auditorium on my graduation day, hear your praise after learning I can legally sign “R.N.” after my name, can feel your hug of congratulations on a new job with my new title. I visualize vacations, I see summer’s evenings on a patio, I can hear the trickling of a creek nearby on my first camping excursion with you.
In the far future, I imagine what it will feel like to no longer be 25. How will you look with gray hair? How will I look with laugh lines and crow’s feet? I wonder what we’ll be up to in our 60’s? Knowing you, you’ll probably be apprenticing up-and-coming photogs, out of love for your work (and love for camera equipment). I picture myself volunteering and keeping my quarter horse spoiled. I imagine us getting some hair-brained idea and just going for it because we have nothing to lose. Together, we will concoct fun.
I think of how fast eight months has gone. Every once in awhile I get nervous that we sped through some of the stages of dating. When I really recount the tale of our connection, I am always reminded that you have felt right from that moment on Thursday night that your hands held mine. You took my breath away that night. You gazed into my eyes and warmed my heart with that touch. I recall that look often, especially when we are not jiving or time and busy schedules starts to wear on us. I remember always how you told me you loved me the first time, and how I felt like I was floating up the stairs to my apartment. I love the way you listen to me and are committed to finding a solution to our disagreements. I love the way you pull me to you first thing in the morning, the way your tone changes when you say “I love you”.
Though I’ve been snowed in away from home, you’ve been on my mind all day. I can’t wait to spend our first Christmas together and look very forward to being home with you and Jude as soon as possible.
I love you, Kane. Thank you for all you do for me, with me, because of me. Thank you for your committment to our family and our future.