It’s 4:43 AM in Jerusalem.
I just woke up crying, from the sweetest/saddest dream.
I was holding you. It was your b-day but I couldn’t remember how old u were.
You said you’d just turned 8 and I thought, this can’t be. I’ve known you for so long, for so much longer than that.
That’s when I woke up and looked out the window at the dark courtyard and thought: My daughter is twenty-three years old.
Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I’m writing to tell you that
I’m in possession of a full awareness of my love for you.