It’s a hot morning in Sacto. I’m writing to you at my favorite coffee shop where I’ve written to you so many times in the last year.
I need the place. I’m lucky it’s here for me to regroup, or to smile on the world when I’m inspired.
That’s the way I feel about you. You were there when I was down. You were proud of me when I was up.
A guy just sat down at my table. He has an 8” x 5” x 11” bible. We looked at each other. I said hi. He didn’t. I’m sure he feels he is on a spiritual path.
I’m trying to be on one, to be the passionate truth seeker I was as a kid, to be born again, this time without arrogance.
So I’ve sought you with these letters. I needed you to help me make changes I ache to make, to feel great before I die.
It’s been an incredible year. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t written to you.
I’m scared. Next year I have to make it on my own. If I become great, you won’t be here to laugh with as we sit on the lawn in the back of Sis I’s breathing the country air.
It will be sad for me. It will be sadder for you. You always admired me – your younger brother with unforgettable passion.
There’s lots of regrets. With all our pain, I wish I had prayed for you, for us, for me.
Copyright © 2021 by David Vaszko