Dear Kate.....

When we were kids our mother would often respond to a situation she disagreed with with, "I'm going to write a letter." It became the stuff of legend as we never knew her to ever write a letter of complaint and it's something that even 19 years after her death we continue to laugh about, often suggesting to one another, "Why don't you write a letter?"

I'm not much of a letter writer either but on June 15th, the day we buried our dad I was moved to start my first ever fan letter. Kate DiCamillo, a children's book author, posted an update to her Facebook page about love. It took me a while to finish, in fact I finally mailed the letter on what would have been Wally's 91st birthday. Here's what I wrote:

July 19, 2017

Dear Kate,

I started this note on June 15th. Today, I finish it.

This morning you posted about an interview you did where the writer substituted love for luck, "When the interview appeared in print, the word "luck" was replaced with the word "love." Now, many years later, I still think that luck matters. But love matters more. Love matters most of all."

I cannot thank you enough for this post as the timing was impeccable - we, my siblings and I, buried our 90 year old father today. A retired elementary teacher/principal, he was an incredible man who believed in the power of love. He challenged us to be better people, to put kindness out into the world and to keep our hearts open.

Here's just one example: four years ago he moved into an assisted living facility. He was in the beginning stages of dementia and we knew that he would eventually move to the memory unit. For three years he walked the halls, smiling and greeting everyone, "Hey, how you doing?" and introduced whatever family member was with him, "This is my daughter Amy, she's a teacher, too." Or, "This is my granddaughter Megan and my great granddaughter Quinn. I wasn't crazy about that name but it's growing on me." Last August the memory unit became his home. The adjustment wasn't without pain but he battled. And because there were some safety issues, we arranged for him to have an aide by his side. One day when I was there he was cranky. It was a side we very rarely saw and was not who he was. I said to Lorna, the lovely and kind aide, "I want you to know, this isn't him. His heart overflows with love." She looked at me, smiled and said, "I know. I know your dad from upstairs. He always said hello. Always smiled. I know exactly who your dad is."

Wally, as we called him, had a stroke in November leaving him unable to speak or care for himself. He passed away on June 9th. We have spent a lot of time talking about the role of love in his life and the importance of trying to live like him. Your post that morning was a beautiful reminder. Thanks for that.

Fondly,

Yesterday I received a response:

This note has given me pause - there are lots of ways to be "heard." Perhaps one of the the best ways is to say thank you; to let people know you see them and you appreciate them and that while life is random love is not.

LIFE IS RANDOM LOVE IS NOTTM