The Letter D

I read a brief post from a relative, referencing a young woman in a black and white picture. She was a distant relation of mine, and although the woman in the picture is quite young, time has relentlessly moved on. In reality, the young woman died decades ago and the picture is a ghost, an echo of someone gone.

Below the photo were three simple words.

I loved her.

Such a simple and profound and positive statement. But…

If you take away one letter, oh, how it changes.

I love her.

One is past, gone, a relic. The other is now, relevant, important.


Just one letter.


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