My daughter got me a little book for Christmas. It contains 13 hand-written letters from her. One for Christmas Day, and one for each month of the following year.
I cried on Christmas Day.
I’ve been savoring the thought of what January’s letter might hold. She finally called me on it tonight.
I don’t know what I did to deserve her, but she is one of the most amazing people I’ve been fortunate to get to know, ever.