Dearest Diana,
I have been writing you letters for over 20 years now. It has been a soothing ritual, and you have been, in a way, the person that I have confessed the most to about my worries, about my career, about my heart, about my adventures, about the garden. Since I left Montreal, I don’t really write my mother, but I have always written you. In you I found a true kindred spirit. I remember, before I became an actual published author, when it was just a dream, I was going to be a judge for the FOCAL award for the Los Angeles Public Library. You were on the board of FOCAL and it was then that our literary souls clicked and really found that we shared a great love for stories and books. In the years that followed, I have thought of you as an old school arts patron. Always understanding the ebb and flow of career trajectories and for that I will ever be grateful. I could not be an artist if not for you. One thing that I have treasured these past twenty odd years, are the occasional teas that we would take together. The ones where you shared with me the picture books that you were tinkering with writing. I know you were working on the other one recently with your granddaughter, and I love that story, but the one that I loved working with you the most on was the picture book HOW FAR IS FAR. It is the simple story of a bear who wants to go outside and whose mother says don’t go too far. Of course, the bear doesn’t know how far is too far and asks the creatures where that might be and tries to measure with the landscape around him. To the gate, to the forest, to the mountain, to the sky. I think about this story often. And I often think about that very same question, how far is far? My dearest Diana, I can hardly believe that this is my last letter to you. And I can say, with all honesty that far is wherever you are now. But I can also say with confidence that as far as you are, I also know what near is. And that is your wonderful spirit that lives hear near to my heart. I will miss you very much. I am so glad that our paths crossed. You are wonderful.
Love always,
Cecil Castellucci