December 16th

Dear Mom,

Lake Pontchartrain is so cool. The bridge across it was built just as a two lane causeway, but they added a span going the other way so now it's four lanes. I don't have a great grasp of bridge architecture or anything, but it's a cool bridge anyway. Apparently it's the world's longest over-water bridge.

The main thing I noticed is that when you get to the middle of the bridge you can't see any earth in any direction, and that's crazy.

Also, I googled it and it's 1/1000th of the earth's circumference.

My brain refuses to wrap around that. It makes the earth feel smaller than it did before.

Dad's flying home tomorrow. He's lost some of the wariness in his eyes when he looks at me and I'm relieved. It was weird having that distance between us because as much as I wish we could have been closer over the years, we did always have an easy relationship.

I wish there was a way for me to let him know I don't blame him for the dad that he has always been. I think he tried and he loves me, and what else matters?

I also know Althea would let me sit with that thought in silence and then press a little deeper. It's her job and I'm grateful that she keeps me honest.

Deanna and Gary couldn't take this whole time off their jobs, so Dad and I have had quite a bit of time to just wander and explore.

It's so interesting to me how you can tell the city was owned by different countries. There's French architecture all over the place, but the whole city is this strange mixture of different building styles and where in most places of America you can differentiate the affluent neighborhoods from the rougher places, New Orleans has a whole different flavor. You can see the houses of the very rich, and the very poor, and somehow the levels between them are more varied and diverse than anywhere else I've been.

You know I'm a romantic and can't help but fall in love with any place that has an appreciation for their own culture.

New Orleans seems to believe itself the most interesting, the most unique and worth celebrating of cities, not in a self absorbed way, but in a wild merry-making cacophony of festivity.

You know that girl in school who was always a little too loud, unaware of the effect she had on the people around her, with her strong will and her bright colors. And you know she's been through the wringer and come out more beautiful for her will to live.

That girl is New Orleans and I've fallen in a love with her just a little.

Everyone in the city seems to be gearing up for Christmas. It's nothing like I expect Mardi Gras will be come February, but seems more like a smaller town celebration.

Dad and I celebrated Christmas earlier today.

He brought out several packages and I pulled out the puzzle I bought for him in Arkansas. Seriously, he loves it. He even dumped it out this afternoon and started putting it together since we'd kind of decided to leave this last day to just hanging out.

He got me a bracelet made with volcanic rock beads and a small bottle of essential oils that are meant to be calming. I told him about the anxiety attack in Seattle and how sometimes I still get a little short of breath several months ago, and this is his second answer to it. His first was to make sure I didn't need another inhaler.

He also got me a packet of stationary and scented envelopes, which was a really nice touch. He's never asked to see these letters, though he's been glancing over occasionally to see what I'm doing. I told him I write you letters and he just nodded with a thoughtful look on his face.

Meg had sent him a box of tea for me. It apparently was grown in the Willamette Valley and she added a note to say it's much better than the ginger tea I love so much. I picked a few things out at a shop in the French Quarter for her already.

The last package was from Jasper and was a complete surprise. It didn't occur to me he might use Dad to get me a gift. I'm really glad he did though.

Once I saw it was from him I really expected seashells or something he'd made, but instead I opened the box to find a black rubber wrist band.

A long distance touch bracelet. I read the instructions and it's charging right now. I've already texted him though, and he says it's a good way to get in touch if neither of us are looking at our phones.

He's a very smart man.

Also, he wrote a note. Mom, I suppose in Jasper's mind this is going somewhere too. It's not just my imagination and romantic heart that reads more into his thoughtful gestures. Here's what he wrote.

“Aurelia, we need to find a shorter form of your name that isn't Bo. This bracelet is for the times when no one is around and you need someone, or when you don't need anyone, but you want someone. Or for when you want no one, but you don't want to be alone.

I know you don't want me to save you, but I hope you'll let me be here with you while you save yourself.”

That last part made the whole letter worth putting in my box. I don't know how he understands that I wouldn't want him to save me, or expect him to save me. I've seen too many people depending on others for their worth and security. It couldn't be me.

But to simply have him with me while I figure out this whole mess, that would be a dream, wouldn't it?

I think you would like him.

I think he would like you.

I love you,

Bo.