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*This is writing just to say,
I've left my keys behind the kitchen calendar. You won't notice them for the fat hanging of days, but you may catch gaze, off-hand, off the green, glee-sprint of my Kermit the Frog keychain. Take them off the hook when you do. Take me.*
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*You won't want to use them at first. I know. It will feel too much like betrayal. Like unlocking a door that is not yours. I would argue, though, if there's one thing I've striven towards, it has been to convince you that all doors can be yours to open. It haunts me preemptively that you might be faltering in your faith of self even as you're reading this. I hope you still believe even when you think I've turned in my rosary.
Would like to tell you no matter what, I still do. You know that to be the truth, as long as things are in my power. I hope I'm still believing in you, but if it is I who have faltered, I hope you have the strength to believe for us both. You may be only a little person, but you are of such tremendous strength.*
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*So then, it's settled. If you can't have faith for the time being, have strength. And in time, faith will come.*
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*You won't want to use them at first, but this is writing just to say, you can. That when you're running one spring day late, and can't find your set, I really hope you don't feel amiss in pocketing mine. I will not mind. There's little sense in losing the day searching for your own keys when mine will do. Doors are to be opened. Keys are to be used.*
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*I don't know what that means. Lately, there's a sense of inadequacy. I sense my words growing fraught. Feel embarrassed, often, by the things I feel driven to tell you just the second before. It is perhaps why I've hidden them on the hook, behind the calendar, and not in the corridor, where we normally keep them. Or maybe it's because I know if you just see them there, hanging beside the mirror, you'll feel too sad to use them. Maybe it's an invitation to one last hide-and-seek like we used to. I know you like, in general, to find what you set out to seek, and this is my way of saying, a little quietly, perhaps, I hope you do.*
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*Remember to feed the cat. Water the coffee plant, but not too much. I find myself watering it much too much, yet somehow can't help myself. It seems to be heaving, regardless of how much water I pour. And I worry sometimes I'm drowning it, and I feel sometimes there is nothing I can do. So maybe Google that when you have some time.*

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