The Letter

Frank: “I think we need to sit down and have an adult conversation soon.”

Me: “Yes. You’re right. Of course. I was just thinking our conversations lately have been entirely too light-hearted and childish.”

In my opinion, the worst part about being an adult is adulting. It’s not that I behave irresponsibly, but adulting is the worst. 

Almost as bad as adulting? Talking about adulting. 

Topics may include life insurance, making a will, taxes, creating a budget, until recently, healthcare issues that come along with aging, paying bills, etc.

Also, there's the letter. Not a letter. THE Letter.

Before my husband’s last deployment, he handed me THE Letter, which has lived buried in my underwear drawer ever since. I don’t think about it. I hope to never open it. But it’s there. 

Now as I think about upcoming surgery, I know I need to write THE Letter. 

Passwords. Subscriptions. Credit card/account info. End-of-life wishes. Do I write letters to my kids? Sigh. 

But, how?

I’m trying daily to have a good attitude, keep things in perspective, and not let myself become overrun by fear and anxiety. To sit down and write THE Letter, I’ll have to let my guard down. Open up. 

If I let it flow, can I stop it? 

Have I written THE Letter? 

No. 

Will I?

Like any good adulting task, I’ll think about it. Put it off. I certainly won’t talk about it. But, I’ll get it done ahead of the deadline.