Dear Dad,
Recently, I've come into a little bit of money. I can now afford to pay for you to come to Boston and stay in a nice hotel for the weekend. I'm going to the opera tonight, and I'd like you to go with me. It's Carmen, my favorite. I think I've seen it with you twice. You know how you always tell me the plot of the opera on the way over to the Met, in the cab? Even though I've seen it twice, I want you to tell me again. You're a good plot teller.
I'll pay for you to take the Acela train over here. It's comfortable, especially in business class. I've made a bunch of trips back and forth to NYC over the past two years.
So, whaddaya say? Want to come to Boston? I have the money. Oh shit. I just remembered something. I have the money because you died. Fuck.
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3 comments:
Baruch shalom. I hope you're OK, sweetness.
xoxoSMJ
Thanks, guys. Salty, my dad passed away 2 years ago, but it still sucks. My mom passed 19 years ago, and that still sucks. But I'm okay, thanks.
Oh, Alex, seriously, this brought tears to my eyes. Can I go to the opera with you? I don't know any of the plot, but I can tell you cute stories about my kids. :) Or, better yet, why don't you take one of my kids and you can tell THEM the plot and some day, many years from now, they will be telling someone about the amazing person that made opera so cool. xo.
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