It was wedged between the salt and pepper shakers and her Mother’s antique pewter sugar bowl. She had finished writing the letter way past midnight and had placed it on the kitchen table so that she would be sure to see it when she sat down for her morning coffee. Once it had been “Out of sight out of mind” but recently, even when things were in plain view, she would become confused as to their purpose, almost to the point of teary frustration. Was the letter going out or was it something she had opened and read, then placed on the table for further review? That would perhaps be the question that would rise at her first glance upon the unsealed envelope laying in wait.
It had taken great courage for her to pen it. Her thoughts would come and go and when they returned, more often than not, would arrive in a jumble waiting for translation. She had made notes to herself on the clearer points and left the post-its where she would have to see them; on her pillow, stuck to the mirror in the bathroom, tucked in her left shoe. Things that needed saying, truths to be told, explanations that were long overdue…confessions of faults and declarations needing forgiveness, it was time. Actually, she had finally decided, it was way past.
How many opportune moments over the years had she wanted to say these things, but there was always an excuse…not the perfect time, a sudden lack of courage, a rising fear of dismissal or worst of all the panic of potential rejection. As the months turned into years the excuses grew into perceived truths while the truths remained buried under the fear.
Finally when she was forced to admit that soon she would be unable to open the Pandora’s box that she had carried in her heart for so many years, had she come to the conclusion that there was no time like the present, for if she didn’t act quickly her present would soon be a dismal fog in her past.
Thankfully she had taken her Meds before coming down to make her coffee, so on this pivotal morning of her life, she had the wherewithal not to immediately toss out the open envelope without first glancing at its contents. When she had reached for the sugar, for just a teaspoon in her coffee, the envelope fell on its side with its contents beckoning to be heard. As she slowly unfolded the letter and began to read, the pain and sorrow in the tale being told, brought tears to her eyes. How sad she thought, that someone would be burdened with this their entire life. What a strain it must have been to bear hiding these secrets. She read thru to the end and when she was done, she folded the letter and returned it to the envelope. Rising from the table she slowly made her way down the hall and back to her room. She would say a prayer for the author of that letter and perhaps God in his compassion would grace forgiveness on their soul.
The Plot Thickens, Thursday:
A letter sits unsealed