The Beauty of Absolutely Nothing

Dear John,

 

There's not much to say tonight but that I love you and miss you - bet you never guessed that!

 

I found this photo, and of course it got me thinking about the time we went through the northeast corner of Colorado. I hadn't realized that parts of Colorado were flat; I'd pictured the Rockies all over the state. We took one unmarked state road south to the next one, then turned east. And that intersection was one of the most beautiful spots I'd ever seen. No fences, no telephone poles, no houses - the only sign of human existence was the top of a grain silo on the western horizon. The only sound was the wind in the grasses. No cows, horses, or sheep grazing. Just grass and sky. We stopped the car, got out, and sat on the hood for a long time. It was the highlight of the vacation for me.

 

Thank you for understanding that about me - that I have a strong emotional response to flat empty space, whether land or water, and lots of sky. That kind of scenery was normal to you, but I grew up in the foothills of the Appalachians where the only flat things were parking lots and there wasn't much sky. I go back to Atlanta now and I feel claustrophobic. In the years of our marriage, you spent a lot of time driving me through flat places while I gaped and left noseprints on the passenger window. You never made fun of me - you always said that you were surprised how much I liked it, but glad.

 

Thank you for being gentle and generous with me! Thank you for not having to understand in order to be supportive. Thank you for never requiring a coherent explanation of my feelings. Thank you for being you - the world's only perfect man - who, for some reason and out of all the women in the world, loved me.

 

I adore you,

Joan.