The Correspondent

Ms. Joan Didion

Dear Joan,

It’s the day of Daan’s funeral (my ex-husband), and I’ve got the plane ticket sitting here on the desk on top of the book stack.

At the last minute, three days ago, I didn’t go to the airport.

I simply didn’t go. If I regret the decision, then so be it.

My life is in winter anyway; only a little while left to nurse regrets.

I went back and reread The Year of Magical Thinking.

The first time I read it, years ago, I recall thinking I would return to it one day, and although my situation is different than yours, with all these years that separate Daan and me, I found so much of it put word to the way I do feel, whether I have any right to or not.

Of course I really don’t have the right.

Do let me know how you are getting on.

Sybil

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