It All Started With a Letter

One Letter one love

It all started with the letter. No return address, only an obscure postmark. Did I know anyone in Juno, Alaska? I really didn't think so.  Tell me Indiana, Iowa even and I may need a moment or two to think about it. Juno, Alaska, no question. I didn't know anyone from there. Taking the letter to my kitchen, I laid it on the smooth, dark granite. As I poured myself a third coffee of the morning I waited for some hint of  memory. Anything to explain the mail lying before me. Picking it up, it felt light in my fingers. It couldn't be more than two pages at the most. Turning it over, I saw on the sealed flap a small heart with a smiley face inside. Well whomever had written me from across the country, at leaste this indicated the letter just may hold happy news. Slowly I tore open the flap, careful not to rip the heart or the smile it held within. I removed one sheet of pale green paper, folded in thirds, I could see it was handwritten on both sides. As I saw the handwriting my heart stopped, my breath caught in my throat. The paper, still neatly folded slipped from my fingers and floated to the floor.

How long had it been since I had thought about him? Five years? More? He had come to upstate NY, to my small town, to finish a project. He was tall, sandy haired, with beautiful blue eyes. His smile never ceased to melt my heart. His deep voice, often made others jump but I knew better. His build intimated most until they got to know him, and then his heart won them over. Our affair was brief, but left a lasting mark on my soul. When he finally had to leave I thought I would never heal from the hurt. Now, years later, my heart is racing as if he is in the room standing next to me.

Bending to pick-up the letter I could see his distinctive handwriting. Part chicken scratch, as we used to kid, and part strong and bold. I unfolded the page and just took in the connection. He had held this paper like I am doing now. His hands had touched it, his mind had been on me when he wrote it. That alone was almost enough for my heart. As I began to read I was drawn by his attempt to paint me a picture of where he was living. Beautiful, breathtaking, perfect, were words I heard in my head. Jokingly he added cold, bitter and sometihng about his nose. Little was sinking in. I was in the past, hearing his voice, smelling his aftershave, and seeing his smile. At some point my mind must have kicked in because I heard in my head, "so if you decide to marry me". Marry him? My heart was thudding so loudly I thought for sure I was going to black out. Slow down, I told myself. Go back a few lines, you must have missed something. Re-reading the letter I was in shock. I moved, as through water, slow and deliberate to the stool by the counter. Plopped myself into it and stared into nothingness.

How many minutes went by, I could not say. I only know that when my brain switched back on my coffee was cold, the letter lay at my feet and a huge grin was on my face. He spent all these years missing me, wanting me as I had done too. He wanted me to fly out to him and marry him. This was happening way to quickly. I grabbed the letter and hunted for a phone number. They had to have phones in Alaska, I told myself. There at the bottom of the back page was his number. With trembling hands I picked up the phone and dialed. His voice sounded the same, deep and smooth. I could hear the smile in it. As we talked I knew. He then said something I would remember for ever. He said, "Someday we will tell our children, It all started with a letter."