Dear Days Remaining in the Year,
I have a song for you, for today. Aselestine.
If there were more time, I'd write to tell you how I am feeling, but the days left are so few, it feels silly to bother. I am trying to write this mountain of greeting cards, and there is nothing really to say about all this darkness and hate. For years I have been thinking we will get to a place, a place in the future, where we will look back and say, Whoo boy! What a terrible time that was! It's so great to be here and think back on that time; like a fading nightmare. A place you leave and it just gets smaller and smaller in your rear view mirror. But thinking on the future feels indulgent and foolish.
There is one thing, I guess, that feels worth the saying: I am sorry for the times I hurt you.
