Dear daughter,
For the last two weeks I had been particularly busy, and
while there is a singular sense of fulfillment that one gets from truly hard work, I
find that it is very important to every so often remove myself from everything
and remind myself of who I am.
And so in the middle of things, I stopped to read a page or two from the book about the city I love and wrote an itinerary in my head for when we go in March.
After a long week’s work, I spent hours in the kitchen with
your father baking his favorite cookies—the ones he made for me years ago. I felt
the soft dough in my palm and smelled the cinnamon wafting from the oven and I
realized that I am home.
When in the middle of the day I realized that I had been so
preoccupied with work that I had forgotten about lunch, I quickly made myself
macaroni and cheese from a box. There just wasn’t time for a proper meal. When
I sprinkled an inordinate amount of grated parmesan on top, however, and served
it in a pretty whisky glass, I found that my macaroni and cheese from a box wasn’t
too bad, after all.
And finally, today, before I left for work, I paused to
write this letter for you.
Amidst work, one should never be too busy to be herself,
don’t you agree?
Love,
Mom
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