Dear My Brain,
You used to be a clenched fist. Now you are a sieve.
Everything flows. I’m letting it all wash over and through me.
Dear My Sister Sarah,
Thank you for living in San Francisco, and for bringing me there to visit. The ocean and a change of scenery is a dose of real magic. So are sister bonds that run deeper than the BART train beneath the Bay, and which make understanding and support a real, blessed thing.
Dear San Francisco,
I see why everyone wants to live on your beautiful peninsula. I also saw, on our late night art house movie excursion, why my BIL Tom calls you “The City That Goes to Bed at a Reasonable Hour.”
Dear Green Apple Books in the Richmond,
I could’ve spent six hours browsing your shelves, particularly the book tables on the sidewalk. I really love you.
Dear My Brain (again),
What is it with the Swiss cheese qualities you’re exhibiting? Even with reminders in my phone, my first day home, I forgot the first day of swim lessons. Also, I couldn’t summon any remorse, because brain-sieve.
Thank you for listening to all my stories about Angel Island, S and T’s amazing apartment, Turkish food, and Karl the Fog. Thanks for laughing in all the right places. And thank you for taking care of the guys so I could go.
Dear Auguste (nephew),
Thanks for letting me have your bunk bed and your room for a few days. You and your Pokemon cards binder are charming and I really like you.
Dear Alice (niece),
You are the sweetest Little Red Bird ever. Also, I’ve been singing Moana nonstop.
Dear Henry, Charlie, & Truman,
I felt happy coming home from my trip. This is new for me. Coming home from vacation for years felt like returning to exile, or running a marathon while battling pneumonia and also with a few kids strapped to your back. Because of you guys, I now see why people speak fondly about the joy of coming home after being away.
I don’t know what it is about you, but it felt right. You showed me calm completeness.
I’m home. It feels happy. I think some of this satisfaction comes from having stepped outside of my surroundings for just a few days. And then stepping back in, with a full glass and fresh eyes.