I hope that in the course of your decades writing you’ve done and been subject to stuff that’s helped make you a more Respectful writer. I would like to be a Respectful writer, I believe…though I know I’d far prefer finding out some way to become that w/o time and pain and the war of LOOK AT ME v. RESPECT A FUCKING KILLER.

Dave: that you worried about the Look At Me part as much as you did even further underscores the Respect so many of us have for you, always had for you, always will.

Happy birthday, Killer.

The past 16 months have been both the most painful and blessed in my life. It’s hard to describe how such deep despair and such high hope can coexist, and at some point I’ll be ready to try doing that; so much has happened since Oct 2010 that I know I’ll need to write a lot of it down in order to be able to fully understand it, and if you’re reading this and are in any way nodding your head, I want to repeat real quick here the first two things I told you: I love you, and thank you.

Over the past few weeks I’ve felt myself finally lifting away from much of the hurt, disappointment and fear that has been a pretty regular constant for me for about as long as I can remember. If you were just nodding your head a moment ago, there’s a really good chance you know enough of The Story because I shared pieces of it with you. You don’t know how much your listening and support has meant to me.

I’m typing this from my campus office on a Saturday night, by the way. Everything is cool-air quiet here. This morning I went to my youngest son’s basketball game and immediately after he was finished he ran straight over to me and gave me a big hug. I want to thank him here. On Thursday, my middle son jumped off the school bus to fetch his hamster from my little apartment because he’d let the little furry dude spend the night with me the evening before so I wouldn’t feel lonely. I want to thank him here as well. And last night my oldest son gently informed me that he was way ahead of me on the Epic Rap Battles meme but he appreciated my interest nonetheless. He needs thanked here, too. These three boys have been amazing throughout everything, and I am in awe of their fortitude. They are my heroes, all of them.

But so are you. I want you to know you are so very much appreciated, whomever you are. I am in the process of not only reclaiming my life because of you, but beginning a whole new chapter in a whole new book of it that I didn’t even know I would write. I had been emotionally bankrupt for the longest time, just barely floating through my professional life, and my creative production had totally bottomed out. All of that is different today; where I am now has a lot to do with you, whomever you are. So I’m very pleased to meet you. And I love you. And I thank you.

At the beginning of this new year, I finally made good on a promise I’d made to myself several years ago, when my middle son uttered a phrase out of confusion as to where he was on a school activity calendar. He repeated it two and three times and with more than a little indignance. I didn’t know why but I had to write it down because I knew at some point I would understand why he was so insistent that what he was saying was exactly what he meant. The promise I made back then was at some point in the future I would tattoo that phrase into my skin once I understood its profundity and began applying it to my worldview and daily routine. This is that promise:

The past 16 months have largely been about confronting and exorcising my yesterdays. But today is tomorrow. And today is full of love and promise and dreams coming true.  Thank you, whomever you are, for waiting for me to arrive here today. And for all future todays.

Many thanks to everyone who attended, especially my boys Dmitri and Dante who tagged along and assisted, and also to Maureen and her amazing staff.

Barbara Kruger, 1989