Love Letters...

My daughter caught me crying... sitting on the floor... 
surrounded by boxes...

a piece of paper in my hand...

 "What is that, Mom?  

It looks like dad's handwriting."

She was right... 

it was her father's handwriting. 
I recognized the D.J.
(he acronymed me from the start)

He would copy lyrics to songs,

and leave them on the windshield of my 73 Super Beetle,  wrapped in plastic, in case it rained...

it was Portland, after all.

I'm so glad she caught me...

It was nice for her to see that

underneath all the crap (literally), there really is love...  

At least it started out that way.

So right there, 

in the middle of all the muck...

After hours of sorting and purging... 

I was rewarded with this sweet memory... 

My husband's version of a love letter:

Just remember in the winter...

Far beneath the bitter snows...

Lies the seed that with the sun's love...

in the Spring... becomes the Rose...

30 years ago... in the 3rd row of the intimate Portland Paramount Theater...

Marcel's eyes glistened as Bette Midler sang this song.
We've been married almost 29 years.

I haven't thought about him like that for quite some time... 

what a lovely way to start the new year...

The digital age is wonderful...but some things can only be properly expressed with a pen and sheet of notebook paper...