From 8725eee77af5d5b2e268c039f3b5184aa7fd668e Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Madison Scott-Clary Date: Tue, 25 Oct 2022 23:16:34 -0700 Subject: [PATCH] update from sparkleup --- writing/post-self/selected-letters/012.md | 2 +- 1 file changed, 1 insertion(+), 1 deletion(-) diff --git a/writing/post-self/selected-letters/012.md b/writing/post-self/selected-letters/012.md index fc4c4340..f7929ced 100644 --- a/writing/post-self/selected-letters/012.md +++ b/writing/post-self/selected-letters/012.md @@ -43,7 +43,7 @@ I'll be honest that I'm not sure what I'll get out of your answer. I don't know There is one more thing that I'm a little hesitant to ask about, because I'm not quite sure what direction your thoughts are heading in. The chance that me bringing this up is only going to hurt you is real, given the tenor of your letters, and for that I apologize. -I've noticed that you've been talking about Rareș quite a bit more over the last year. What was it that brought him to mind? +I've noticed that you've been talking about Rareș quite a bit more over the last year. I touched on it briefly last letter, but I want to approach it more intentionally: what was it that brought him to mind? I still think about him, you know. I think about how when he got frustrated, he'd smile, but with his brows knit. It was such a uniquely *him* expression. I think about our parents' funeral and how, even at 10, he seemed to understand on a deep level --- deeper than us --- the finality of death. I think about the confusion and hurt on his face when we announced we were going to upload. It's not that he didn't love aunt Rahela, or that she didn't love us, but we were so much more a parent to him than she ever was.