My parents divorced when I was 5 and I lived with my mother, except for occasional weekends, holidays, or summer breaks. When we lived states apart, I saw my father rarely and we stayed in touch by phone and mail. Long-distance calls were expensive back then (and we weren’t flush with cash), but mail was affordable and I loved writing and receiving letters. Some things never change.
Recently my father has been cleaning and purging possessions, which means he’s also running across a few gems, like this letter from a 10-year-old me telling him about a recent fishing trip with my stepfather, my mother, and my baby brother (Larry II, aka Little Larry).
In the letter, you’ll notice that I made an odd request. To the right of the letter, you’ll notice that my father fulfilled it.