An Open Letter to My Daughters
(Inspired by a phone conversation Thanksgiving, 2018)
Dear Suzzanne and Steffani,
The phone call made me realize I’m getting old. Suzzanne, you expressed surprise, nearly shock, when I reminded you that I’m 68 and a half years old.
Considering our family’s history on both sides, and given my current health, I figure I have at most another 20 years. I’m not looking for sympathy, merely stating a fact.
There are things you need to know. Family history and anecdotes, memories both good and bad, and why I made many of the choices I did.
I do a lot of writing these days. Most of it is published on Medium. I’ve also archived them on my laptop, and right now I’m researching the best way to share them with you.
Printing them and mailing them to you is out of the question; I have neither printer nor room for one in my room (which I jokingly refer to as My Lonely Writer’s Garrett.®)
And so I’m posting this story on Medium in the hopes that someone here can suggest a way for me to share them with you.
I wish Seattle and Rochester weren’t so far apart.