
My husband and I wrote letters to each other from May until September in 1987. We met in early May, went home to our separate coasts, visited twice, and I moved to California five months after we left.
I don’t think I’ve ever re-read the letters, just carried them around from house to house, and took them on another cross country move.
I read them all again the other day. Wow. Talk about some in-depth thoughts and dreams. Mine, of course. His letters were sometimes a half of a page. But they talked of our visits, and our day to day lives.
I look at my husband now and I fall in love with him all over again.
