My February 2023 Sun came in a white cover, announcing it was a gift. I didn’t need to look to know from whom. My father has been giving me the magazine for decades. So I grinned when I read Emily Kanter’s letter. By her father’s standards I should have been cut off long ago.
I started reading my dad’s copies of The Sun when I was a teenager, and my gift subscription began when I was in my twenties, fumbling my way toward a life path. That gift has followed me all these years, through the tough decade of my thirties, with babies and a hard marriage; through my forties, full of the joys and sorrows of divorce; and now into my fifties, when I am finally content with what is. Through it all, I’ve read The Sun every month. I was even quoted in its pages when my father’s poem “Baptism” was published in March 2020 [Howard Nelson]. Thanks for helping me know myself.