Tag Archives: love letter

Day 49: a love letter to bad days

18 Feb

Tonight continues my commitment to more love and less fear this year.  For February, I am writing a love letter each day.  Tonight is dedicated to …bad days.

Dear Bad Days:  

I have to admit, it’s hard to write a love letter to you, Bad Days.

You put me right in that place of being down in the dumps, on the verge of dispair, in the throws of crisis and sting of bad luck.

But, I must admit, if pressed, I can find a cozy spot of love for you.
Especially on Good Days.

I would love to think you are behind me, Bad Days — that we have officially done our time together.  But, I know, there will be days when you show up on my front door step, smack me in the side of my head and throw me under the bus.

And, I’ve got one thing to say to that — thank you.
You see, I’ve come to a place to understand that without with you, Bad Days, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the Good Days.

It’s kind of like that moment when I was 8-years old watching the news on television, sitting next to my father. It was a broadcast from the front lines. I was perplexed and questioned my father over and over again: “Why do we have war?”

To all of his answers, I replied the most important childhood question, “But, why?”

With a flash of understanding, I finally came to the conclusion, “I guess we wouldn’t know what peace was, if we didn’t have war.”

And, that’s how I feel about you, Bad Days.

If it were not for you, I may not know how to soak in the pleasure, the sun, the everlasting gobstopper of fun that occurs on Good Days.

So for that, I thank you.
I do not miss you, but I thank you.


P.S. Today was a Good Day!

Day 43: a love letter to friends

12 Feb

Tonight continues my commitment to more love and less fear this year.  For February, I am writing a love letter each day.  Tonight is dedicated to …friends.

Dear Friends (of New and Old):  

I’m not sure where or what I would be without you, dear friends.

They say you can’t pick your family but you can pick your friends.  And, I’m so thankful you picked me to share your life.

You have picked me up when my life split into a million pieces. You have pushed me to be more, think smarter, do better. You have been right by my side, seen me through my darkest moments, my biggest regrets, my best accomplishments and reminded me to lighten up and laugh a little more at times too.

I’m not sure where the line is drawn between acquaintance and friend.  And, I can’t quite pinpoint the moment when you and I crossed over from “meeting” each other to “can’t remember my life without you.”

More than anything, I love picking up the conversation right where we left off, even if it started one day, two years or three decades ago.

Whether we met in grade school, a college campus or across the office hallway, you have changed my life for good.

As the song goes:
Thank you for being a friend
Traveled down the road and back again
your heart is true you’re a pal and a confidant

There are some things so sacred they just can’t be put into words.
They must be seen. They must be felt. They must be sung.

And, you, dear friends of old and of new, are the music of my life.
For that, I sing your praises and I send you love.

Now and always.


P.S. Thank you to our dear friends, Pam and Neil, for visiting tonight. Everything is always more beautiful when it is shared with friends — even the beach at sunset.

P.P.S. I love this photo of you two!

Day 42: a love letter to yoga

11 Feb

Tonight continues my commitment to more love and less fear this year.  For February, I am writing a love letter each day.  Tonight is dedicated to …yoga.

Dear Yoga:

I think I fell in love with you before I knew what you were.

Years and years ago, when I was a teenager, I would sit and soak in my stretch before basketball practice.  It felt so good!  It was like my own private moment before all the competition, training and games began.

Back then, I never thought of stretching as an exercise — rather, it was what I was required to do before exercising.  These days, my favorite exercise is just that — stretching, a.k.a. YOU, yoga!

And, today, dear Yoga, I sat in your class and remembered that peaceful stretch.  That moment of being with my mat.  Just being.

(Of course, my being was dripping rivers of sweat down my arms!)

While I am still learning not to treat you like a competition or game, the ex-athlete in me can’t help but look up at the real yogi’s in the room and try to catch up to their Crows, mimic their Frogs and dive like their Dolphins.

I’m still learning to take this stretching exercise to heart — my heart — and go at my own pace.  I suppose that’s the lesson in this life that you have so sweetly and silently shared.

Now, as I sit here resting my sore muscles, my spirit is soaring.
And, it’s all because of you.


Day 32: for the love of letters!

1 Feb

Today is February 1 …already!

And, in honor of the month we dedicate to that four letter word, I am celebrating with a month of love letters, starting today with a letter from my heart …to my car.

My Dear Car:

Oh, how I love thee, gray Nissan Altima from 2008!

I’m sorry I never properly named you, and now as I write this letter, I do wish I had picked a nickname.

Hum… what about Alty? Or, maybe, Nissa?  Okay!  Nissa it is.

I love you Nissa, for so many reasons, but especially for taking me over 53,000 miles of life’s uncertain terrain.  You have been my co-pilot from Boston to New Orleans and back again.  You have carried me from the southernmost tip of Florida to the Cape and island of Martha’s Vineyard.

I have packed you to the gills and moved with you six times!

Please forgive me for leaving your sunroof open on a hot and sunny April day.  I had no idea it was going to snow the next morning, really, I didn’t!  But, you dried out and bounced back in no time at all (with a little help from your standard issue heaters).

Thank you, most of all, for playing my favorite song the moment I drove you off the lot.

How did you know A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton is the song that reminds me of my mom?  How did you know I hadn’t heard that song in years? How did you know it was exactly what I needed to hear as I finally sat in the drivers seat again — both in my new car and my  new life?

When I first sat on your leather seat and held your soft steering wheel in my hands, I knew we were meant to be together.

And, don’t you worry!  We will be together for a long time now that I bought out your lease.

Be mine.


P.S. As I explore the power of love this year, please know you hold a very special place in my heart.

P.P.S. I promise to take you to the car wash more often!

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