2018 AUSTIN, TEXAS, 1300 W/5500 N

2018 AUSTIN, TEXAS, 1300 W/5500 N

Dear Santa,

The best thing happened! First I was feeling really sad tonight about how I can't remember what Mom's eyes look like anymore. What if Dr. Holland is right about her coma and i won't ever get to see her eyes again? I was holding Mom's hand explaining to her about how something super tiny has a power to move a star up in the sky. I was telling her how the microscope is teaching me to see how tiny things and giant things are connected. Just then I thought mom squeezed my hand just as a shooting star shot across the sky. I thought maybe I felt it wrong but then her eye lashes started to move and then she opened her eyes and we got to say hi for just a second before she fell back asleep. Dr. Holland wouldn't believe it but Kristine did and made him do a scan and he just came in with the other doctors and they said it was a miracle said it was a sponanius ramition. I don't know how to spell it but it means that her cancer is gone! Santa, she is waking up and the whole floor of nurses and doctors are smiling with us. The shooting stars are sparking in the sky and mom's brain is sparking back to life.

Love, Bobby

P.S Thank you for the Asabov Microscope. I feel bad because I stopped believing in magic but now I know magic is real again. I'm not crying because i am sad. I am crying because I can feel the shooting stars in my heart.

As the writer of the Giant Letters, my job is to take stock of the people and events that have carried some weight over the course of a year, and to weave them all into a one-page story that hopes to offer emotional healing and transformation to its readers. I’ve been hesitant to share what inspires the letters, as the stories behind them are often difficult, but as violence and apathy surge in our world, I feel that creating an emotional context for discussion around it is key to our social healing. I want to offer a trigger warning for the dedications below, as the content touches on difficult topics such as cancer, the loss of children and parents, abuse, and suicide. - Caro



Kristine was a friend who didn't have an easy life. She had a health condition that none of her doctors could solve. She would often come to my art gallery and participate in art events. This photo is her pushing her good friend on a swing we installed from the gallery ceiling. She was a fun, vibrant personality with a great sense of humor.

In her later years, she didn't get out much due to the exhaustion and the uncertainty of her chronic pain and accompanying depression. We often talked about going for walks and bike rides and even about going go-karting, but as her conditions progressed she just never felt strong enough to get out of the house. With all of her medical issues, she had a wealth of knowledge about virtually every condition related to her own struggles. When I was thinking about how to honor her life, I decided to turn her into an important character in Bobby’s life – a nurse named Kristine.