This is a letter my dad wrote on my mom’s birthday. I felt the need to share this with everyone who loves it. So here it is
The full form of the letter
Beloved,
Our relationship is not an intimate formality in the way you wish for a happy birthday, in the way it should be written. Yet a feeling in the smooth memory of the many letters exchanged in the past, and in its fullness and purity.
Write Write Someone says. No one else is my mind. A heart that has not yet left its youth. Our relationship is also regarding nurturing letters and giving them meaning, intimacy and depth. We saw each other through each letter. Close, as in the mirror, knew.
We learned to read ourselves. Each letter brought us closer and made the distances irrelevant. There was nothing left to say or write. A time like that. Or we built such a time.
I remember the letters you and I kept burning following the wedding. In those letters, written on soft white paper, the ink had begun to dry and fade. But as the fire engulfed the letters, they became stars and we watched them rise and fall. Burning for a long time.
Today it seems, it should not have been, it should not have been destroyed. It was a memento of a romantic time. It was a transcript of some unique emotion that was not confined to the letters. What a fascinating experience it would be to read it today. Remember …
We learned the wonders of life sewing from a rented house in Pettah where we lived that day. We know that life is not a relentless logic of letter writing. The lesson that the rent taught us was that we did not get it from any other church. I’m not the only one who’s ever had the ability to let go of limitations, let’s not shine a light.
Were it not for your resilience in times of crisis, terrible illness, and business collapse, and the self-confidence you displayed, we would not have been able to hold on.
Today, as I look back on your birthday, I feel more respect for you, dear one, than love for you. You are the cause and effect of what we children and their children do. You are.
Haven’t you heard my son say that it was you who introduced him to pushing him to stand firmly on the ground, even though it was his father who told him to look up and fly there? You are the one who once taught me to stand alone and stand on the floor, longing to see the sky. For me, you are the only one born to me.
