Finn, my Love…
My dads are losing it.
True to form, they're being total gentleman and sharing the fold-out couch in the living room and letting me take the bedroom. The only problem is, when the bed folds out, it hits the opposite wall and doesn't go down all the way. So now they're sleeping in an "upside-down downward-facing dog" position. It's a yoga thing. I'll demonstrate it for you when I see you.
So now their backs ache all the time, and the hot water in the shower lasts only two minutes, and they set a small fire trying to make herbal tea our second night, and they're arguing all the time.
But still, I'm glad they're here.
Even the sound of bickering is better than the silence.
It's never truly silent in New York. They call it the city that never sleeps for a reason. There's this constant hum 24 hours a day, but all it does is make me miss the sound of your goofy laugh, your silly questions, your breath beside me in the middle of the night.
No! I'm not going to get sappy this time. All I'll say is, have a safe journey tomorrow. Oh, and remember, in Georgia, the chicken's supposed to taste that way.
Your dad would be really proud of what you're doing. I know I am.
Yours, always…
Rachel.
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