“I have a letter for you,” my friend Kirsten told me on the phone. “I think it's from your mother.” I was 1 since my mother had been 2 for seven years.
A few weeks later Kirsten handed me the 3 dated Aug. 30, 2002. Around then I was preparing for my pilot course's final exam at the 4 school. The students finished the training on5 days.
I was the first to6. My mother's letter 7after I left. Kirsten picked it up from my mail-box, to keep8 she next saw me9 a few days later, when it was her turn to leave, she 10the letter among the piles of papers she11 packed into boxes. It12there for a decade, during which my mother died. In 2013, when Kirsten 13 some dusty belongings from her flying school days, she 14the letter.
It's been two years since Kirsten gave me the letter which I've carried on my long flights. But I haven't15 it yet. When I told some friends this, they 16their heads. They said they wouldn't have been able to wait a second. Of course, I17How could I not? -about her 18 in the envelope. Surely, I think, she had written to wish me luck, ask about my life and tell me the news from 19to make me at ease. However, for now it's20 to look at her handwriting on the envelope, and to remember that until I open it, I know I'll hear from her once more.
