He believes worrying is a job. He believes if he concentrates hard enough, nothing bad can happen while he’s paying attention.
Please don’t mistake that for strength.
And please don’t spend your life trying to make him less afraid.
That part belongs to him.
My vision blurred.
I read the paragraph again.
Please don’t spend your life trying to make him less afraid.
Seventeen years.
Rebecca had understood my marriage before it began.
Near the end was one final paragraph.
If he ever loves you, he may try to turn that love into vigilance.
Tell him his annoying sister said no.
Then there was a smiley face.
I laughed and cried at the same time.
The next morning, I handed the letter to Daniel.
He read it standing in the kitchen.
His knees seemed to weaken.
He sat.
When he reached the final paragraph, he covered his mouth.
“She wrote this before…”
