Let the emotions that break us, heal us.
This weekend I did something people rarely do anymore – I wrote a letter. Armed with a blue pen, pad of yellow-ruled note paper and the handwriting skills I learned back in 2nd grade, I was all set to begin this old school approach to communicating. At first I considered an email or a phone call, but felt a handwritten letter provided the more personal touch I was hoping for in this delicate matter. It was a letter to my parents, whom I haven’t spoken to in five years. A little history. I grew up in what I always perceived to be a very close family unit – never dreaming that one day my relationship with them would become difficult to maintain as a free-thinking adult. Growing up I had…