Family Archaeology

“Reading my father’s love letters to my mother was so confusing, because they felt like they were written by a different man. Now I know that they were. They were written by a man I could never know, a man who was possibly murdered. It probably sounds insane, but that’s something that I’m really only beginning to think about now, because for so long I was relieved that he was gone, and didn’t let myself care about the how or why.”
 — We’re a little late to this, but in case you missed Anya Yurchyshyn’s essay on learning about her dead parents through their old letters, it’s a lovely and moving read. See also: My Dead Parents.