One Year of Letters


Dear Kerry,

It is humbling to remember your age.

An amusing illustration of this occurred which bears preserving. You engaged in a conversation with your fifteen-year-old daughter which pointed to generational differences.

She leaned on the kitchen counter beside you as you chopped onions for dinner. Without preamble, she launched in. “Mom, I ship Jack Frost and Elsa.”

“You what?”

“I ship them.”

You looked up at her, teary eyed from the onions. “Where are you mailing them?”

She laughed. “No, Mom, Gosh, you’re OLD. (You didn’t need her to tell you. Your body lets you know on a regular basis.) See, Mom, ‘shipping’ is when you’d like to see someone in a relationship. You know?”

“No,” You say. “No, I don’t. A ship is a boat. It’s a conveyance. Why would you shorten the word relationship? Its meaning is very different.”

She sighed and slumped in that dramatic…

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