Dear Mike,

A letter (formerly on real paper) out of nowhere.

Remember how I used to be so desperate to get a letter out to you that I would grab anything at hand (pizza box, lunch bag), fold it, address it, and stick a stamp on it, to get a message to you?

Having a hard time right now. Work is a joyless treadmill, and my days are filled with anxiety. I was browsing the book Waiting With Gabriel, and it really moved me. It's about a woman whose unborn child is diagnosed with Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome. That's what my brother John's son Dominic died of, shortly after birth.