Dear “W”, by Susan Sutherland

Dear “W”,

I wince when I realize how long you’ve waited for my letter.

How are you these days? With you being so far to the rear of the alphabet, I don’t often get to see you. Does that bother you, being lost in the wasteland of the alphabet? I have always thought you have the perfect form for leading the alphabet, because you are so powerfully built, yet so openly exuberant, characteristics that are an inspiration for all of us.

I talked with “F” the other day. (Just between you and me, he is a rather fickle fellow – he can’t decide whether to move forward or fall forward). Anyway, since he had never met you, he asked me to describe you.

After pondering and dismissing the notion of trying to extricate you from the rear so you could commune directly with “F”, I eventually found words that might give at least a modest impression of your mighty strength.

I told him that in “W”s printed form he is strong, with two feet wisely planted on the ground. He is not the wayfarer, like his neighbor “X”. He never wanders from his purpose. One senses that his corners hold weighty issues, but that he is always watchful for, and willing to wage war against, the wrongs of life, never waffling from his purpose.

Yet his arms wildly fling themselves into life, waving to all, whooping with an invitation to join his wealth of enthusiasm. Don’t waver, he says. Celebrate now!

“F” whined that no one could be that wonderful. I told “F” that, as with all the letters, we must observe you from two angles; we have to look at your script form, and then he would see. I told him that in that softer mode, one feels one could curl up in the twin washbowls of your base. One could be feeling winsome, wistful, weary, or wary, even whimpering or weeping, but one would always feel safe and welcome. In your script form, one can sail at sea on waves waxing and waning. One can stand in your safe curves wishing upon stars, waiting for answers, and whispering to the sea, letting whimsy carry away life’s troubles.

Needless to say, “F” was impressed so much that he began to weep. I don’t think he is at all weak-minded, but don’t be surprised to find him coming to you for guidance, if he ever gets let out of line, that is.

My dear “W”, if you ever get out of line, and you have the wherewithal to travel (not a wild-goose chase, I hope), do come to see me. No doubt, traveling solo would feel weird for you, but we could sit over waffles and coffee, or share a Waldorf salad, and talk about life and whatnot.

From one who loves you a whole lot,

Susan