Triangles or rectangles?
“Triangles or rectangles?” my father would call out from the kitchen while cutting my sandwich, referencing a diagonal or vertical cut.
“Reccctaaanggllleessssss!” I would squeal, from the next room. A dill spear and a few maraschino cherries on the side of the plate made me feel fancy, and loved.
At school, teachers would gather ‘round to read his daily love notes on my napkins.
As a young adult, we would hide sticky notes that said “I love you” throughout his house (or my apartment) and giggle how the other would find some weeks, or months later.
This was a note that he left me after a visit over ten years ago. His words have different meaning now that he has passed away, yet it is still so much of what I want and need to hear.
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