Letter 2

Dear you,

Back for another letter? I’m rather flattered. I will admit, though, that I’m curious what it was in my last letter that provoked you to open this one. Will you tell me?

You don’t have to; we can keep the mystery. It might even be better that way. I’ll continue writing my letters in a genuine manner rather than losing focus in the attempt to find the perfect style of writing you seem to favor.

So, what shall we speak about today? Any requests?

No? This wouldn’t have to do with the very fact that our relationship is one on paper, and you couldn’t possibly communicate with me until after this letter is sent off, would it? Or is that – with impeccable precision – the reason?

…My humor is not for everyone, but I get a kick out of it.

Anyway, since I am essentially leading this letter, there is something I would like to share with you. Yesterday, I had a busy day. As the hours went by, all I could wish for was a bedtime I had once dreaded years ago. All I wanted was to fall into bed and drift off in whichever position I landed. This time never seemed to come, though. I continued working on my laptop in bed, and on the bottom right corner of my screen, every so often, I would see the time get later and later.

I had heard my phone go off with a notification at some point, but ignored it, as I was so busy. When I finished my work, another message came through. I looked at the hour and was confused. I checked my phone to see what was setting it off at such a late hour.

It was from my great-uncle, who is in a different time zone.

Not too long ago, I taught him how to send emails and, better yet, attach pictures to them. He had been having an issue getting a refund on a recall for something with his car; however, the reason the process lasted about eight months was because he took pictures, printed them, and physically mailed them out to the company. The mail somehow got lost, and the company asked him to just attach the pictures to his email. He didn’t know how to do that, so he called me up.

I’m no wiz with technology, but he thinks I am. I sat on the phone with him, explaining the best I could how to attach pictures. I explained what he should write in the “subject” and “body” of the email. After about an hour, he successfully sent the email out (we had to send it twice because the first time there was a typo in the ridiculously long email address). Now, shortly after, he got his refund and asked me to send him instructions on how to attach pictures to an email for his own future reference.

Last night, I got two identical emails from him, both containing a picture of my younger sister when she was just a toddler. The emails were ten minutes apart, so I figure he thought the first one didn’t go through. I began typing him a response when I got yet another email from him with the same picture, only this time there was a short message included, and it was coming from another one of his email addresses. So we’re clear, he sent me a total of three emails.

I couldn’t stop laughing. I quickly emailed him back so that he would know that I was receiving his emails. He didn’t respond, though. I had worked with him a while back on replying to an email sent to him, and he has managed to do so in the past, but he explained before that sometimes he accidentally clicks something, and the email disappears from his screen.

My late great-aunt was the one who had sent out the emails; she was the one who had opened the different email accounts. I was close with her. She was a beautiful woman, someone I would stay on the phone with for over an hour at a time, talking about various topics. She would tell me stories about herself growing up. I would tell her my dreams. I would share with her ideas about different projects and programs I would like to create in the years to come. She would remind me that we all have to start somewhere, and sometimes, even though it’s not the grand place we want to be, it’s just the beginning.

I miss her. I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately. She would have liked to hear about you, and I would have told her. I wouldn’t have been able to tell her much, as I don’t know much about you, but I would have explained your importance to me and my hope of importance to you.

I wish you moments you can one day treasure.

Much love.

Yours Truly,

RCG