Dear Mom

December 26, 2014

Dear Mom,

I hate that talking isn’t something we can do any more. I know you can’t hear me at all so talking is one sided and not very communicative. It is nearly impossible for me to share the good talk we have always had through screaming. So, it is absolutely essential that you know how very much I love you. More than anything I wish and pray for your comfort and knowledge that Billy and I will always do what we can to assure your security and wellbeing. This is an incredibly harsh journey and still you handle it with grace.

Billy will bring you up here so you can see that I haven’t painted the house purple or anything weird! Please know that you did not cause any problems yesterday. I wish we lived closer but this is what it is. I always start to get weepy when we say our farewells. That is because I want you to know how wonderful you have made my life. Certainly, I would never ask for a better role model. In my head I have so much to tell you and questions to ask.

Diego and I have been picking up pecans down by the dry creek. He is almost as good as a pig for finding truffles. He works hard find the first few which he eats shell and all. He certainly gets his share of fiber —better than Metamucil! Fortunately, the pecans are thin shelled. So far we have a big box—I hope to take them down to the feed store tomorrow to be cracked. This may be a one-time occurrence as the meat may look like shrunken heads–all dried up. I love picking up pecans…the best therapy in the world. Sometimes I think there are lots of life lessons embedded in pecan picking.

I think David’s Frances is smart and a pretty young woman. I hope they have lots of good years together. Did you know she crocheted the snowflake ornaments? Also she and her Mom made the awesome sugar cookies. I think I ate 5 of them last night while I was reading my book.   

I am reading two books, The Distant Hours by Kate Morton and Things That Matter by Charles Krauthammer, and listening to another, The Forgotten by David Baldacci. They are totally different. Distant Hours is like Daphne Du Maurier, Things that Matter is non-fiction, conservative, and funny/serious, and The Forgotten is a mystery. I love all three—especially Distant Hours. I am going to send it to you. Just finished Killing Patton. I liked the personal information far more than the military hoopla.

I am also sending you a Christmas card from cousin Betty McNeese. She is Uncle Carl’s daughter—you might enjoy looking at her family photo. AND, I am sending an Internet definition of a Bethlehem cross. I love the cross that Gary Moyer gave you all those years ago….I figure it is at least 50 years old…thank you for letting me have it. I wear it all the time. On the back it says 1000 Bethlehem….so I looked that up. I think you will like knowing it is solid silver!

Mom, you are so wonderfully generous. Thank you for the bountiful Christmas checks. As I look around our house, I see so many things you have given me….I love to think of all the stories that go with everything.

I have vertigo or a similar such thing so much that I am nearly housebound till late in the day. I think it is that torture device, CPAP machine that I am using to ‘cure’ sleep apnea. This may be a case where the cure is worse than the condition.

Ok, I am closing—I am going through photos of my trips with Lolly….we had so much fun. Friends are blessings.

I love you — today I remembered (?) our desperate race to the airplane in Tokyo. I was 4 or 5. In my mind’s eye it was in the middle of the night and I think the taxi took us on the tarmac to the passenger loading stairs. Is that possible? We overslept? We were headed back to Okinawa. And speaking of Okinawa I have this great photo of you wearing a mermaid tail at the International Date Line event on board our ship. I wish I knew the name of that ship so I could look it up on the Internet. How is it they talked you into that fishtail costume? I know your great hair and of course, you have always been super stunning—but you always say how shy you were….Damn, I would love to be the mermaid at a festival….but like my favorite bar in San Miguel, I would be La Sirena Gordo—a fat mermaid! Here a picture of two men carrying you to the event. There was a close up too–I would kill for that picture but it was probably one of the pictures destroyed the leaky air conditioner. Grrrrr.

Ok, I really am closing now.   

Love from your FAVORITE!

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