Many years ago, you professed your love for me and told me you wanted to be with me forever. For the next several years we spent a lot of time together, talking, laughing, singing.
But now, it seems you donít spend as much time with me. Each day I write you a letter. Sometimes you skim it quickly, then check it off your list of "Things To DoĒ and donít give it another thought. But so often anymore, you donít even look at it. Youíre in the middle of something--youíll get to it later, you say.
You still talk to me often. You talk of the problems you are having, and tell me things youíd like which would make your life easier, you think. But you rarely take the time to listen to me.
Today I painted you a special picture. It was a glorious red and purple sunset. Yet you were busy cleaning in the bathroom and didnít notice it. Later you complained of how much you have to do, and how tired you are. I offered to help, but you didnít hear me.
I miss you. I know you miss me, too. Yesterday I saw you crying and saw how lonely and overworked you looked.
Iíll be here, waiting for you when you are ready. Weíll talk and Iíll tell you of many things. Iíll shoulder your burdens and you will have time to watch my sunset.
Then you will sing again.
With Great Love,
copyright 2008 Amy Michelle Wiley
Amy is a freelance writer and editor and a professional sign language interpreter. She is the director of Peculiar People--an international collaborative fiction organization. Her website is www.sparrowsflight.net