It was there on the table waiting for him. The letter. Words written down. Finally. This after years and years of mental word choices, sentence construction. What to say? The Son was having health issues. Was it a genetic disorder. Inherited condition. When to write? Answers needed now. Important and imperative information needed. Needed now. How? Words chosen. Concise and to the point. Nothing else needed. Information only. Written and then posted.
Now the waiting.
Special Delivery. Signature required. His signature. Personal. Private. Addressed to him.
She took the stairs down to the front door to answer the bell. He was upstairs. Busy. Doing something. She opened the door and the Postman handed her the letter marked Special Delivery. Signature required. Addressed to him. Personal.
Should I sign? she asked, It’s for you. Yes, please, from the Union? he asked.
No, a letter, her reply. For you marked personal.
Open it he said. What does it say?
The envelope is opened and she reads.
With the opened letter in her hand she climbed the stairs and laid the letter down.
What does it say? he asked again. She looked not at him but at the letter.
It sounds as if the person who wrote this letter is very closely related to you. Closely. Related. After forty years of marriage is there something you’d like to tell me?
She waited, too…