Cards

 Adrianna was the sort that always wrote small novelettes in the cards that she gave me on my birthday or Father's Day. She'd begin under the preprinted text and then continue on the facing page and almost always had to conclude on the back, making it a sort of logic puzzle or game to figure out the intended correct flow of what she wrote.

Like everything she did, she put her all into card giving, and I appreciated it. I'd keep all the cards in a drawer dedicated to them in my desk, and it was overflowing when I went through it afterward. 

However, over the last three or four years I stopped keeping them all, because I was dumb and thought I'd have a lifetime of cards to and from her. I had so many already, I'd have more next year and the year after that. I didn't want to be a hoarder or overly obsessive about her.

It was a terrible decision, because as it turns out, spoiler alert, nothing is guaranteed. There will be no more cards, no more expressions of her love and thoughts. Who cares if it had been a bit obsessive to save everything. Who cares if I had run out of drawer space.

I don't want to give the impression that Adri wasn't appreciative of my support (she was), or that she felt entitled (she didn't), or that she wasn't self-aware (she was). Here's what she wrote in her Father's Day card to me the last year she still lived in Louisville:


"Dad,
I wish I could be with you, see you, hug and kiss you today. I miss you so much. You have always been a strong support in my life. A strong positive role model in my chaotic world.

I appreciate all that you have done, continue to do, and all that you are. You mean the world to me and I love you so much!

I love you always and forever and I hope you know that in your heart. You're a special man, father, and person!


I love you always,
Adri "


This might have been 12 years ago, but I feel like she's talking to me now, and I wish I could talk to her and thank her and make it 100% clear that I feel the same.


tl; dr: save those cards