Dear Mom and Dad

Second week of April, 2011

Dear Mom and Dad,

Sorry for not writing sooner.  So much to see and do, with things changing every day.  Let me tell you a little about my life since that day you left me and my siblings here at the dorm.

Life here is incredible.  Those first few weeks I know you worried about us, me and my brothers and sisters out here, exposed to everything and anything.  It was very cold and windy and stormy.  But for me, living out in it, the experience was invigorating and exciting, maybe scary at moments, but, well, how can I say this; I feel like I’m stronger, more able to meet whatever the world tosses my way.  I know, that sounds a little cliche, but it’s true.

I remember looking at myself in the mirror during those first days, and asking, why aren’t I growing more or even at all?  It’s like I was expending all that energy just to survive, but for what?  I’ll never forget the day I saw my reflection and about dropped my jaw: I looked positively huge and well, really darned good looking!  This happened overnight?  I don’t want to sound like I’m bragging, but I think I could win a prize at some county fair beauty contest.

I am so fortunate with who I’m living next to in the dorm.  My best friends are the radish brothers down the hall.  We do our homework together and swap stories about being amazed at how we’re changing so much every day.  Their bright, red, roots, peeping out from under the covers, grow more each day.  You should see!  The spinach are proud and hold themselves a little aloof, but are courteous whenever we meet in the hall.  I never would have thought a spinach could be called noble, but now I think it’s the best term for them, with their perfectly shaped, emerald-green teardrop shaped leaves that gradually gain a gentle point at the end swaying in the breeze.  The sophomore broccoli and bok choi in the next hall stick their heads in our rooms every so often with a bright smile, a quick hello, and more times than not, a funny joke (Knock, knock, who’s there, lettuce, lettuce who?, lettuce in, it’s cold out here).

The neighbors that puzzle but intrigue me most are the onion exchange students from overseas.  The Purple Sets are in rooms between me and my siblings.  They’re nice enough, but speak in their own language among themselves, a hot, spicy, Latin-sounding tongue I like listening to but can’t really understand.  The real puzzlers are the Walla-Walla onions, started from seeds.  They are skinny and spindly and seldom talk much to anyone, but they carry themselves as if they had some secret they were keeping, like they were saying, “We don’t look like much, but just you wait; you have no idea what we will become.  Long after you’re gone, we will be a wonder to behold.”

I’ve droned on too long and really have to finish an essay due tomorrow.  Love you both lots.  Come visit this weekend.

Your son,

Spotted Trout

Me with some Purple Set students and my red-leaved siblings

 

About literarylee

I sling words for a living. Always have, always will. Some have been interesting and fun; most not. These days, I write the fun words early in the morning before the adults are up and make me eat my Cream of Wheat.
This entry was posted in Garden: A Love Story and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply