Dear Will:
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Photo by Rioji Iwata on Unsplash |
Big thundershower happening right now. I am remembering one of our few trips to Nebraska when a big storm was going overhead. I think it may have been when we went to Bill's funeral. I couldn't remember when that was and I was shocked, after searching Ancestry, to see that it was in 1994. Bill was five years younger than you. That was a sad time. A big funeral and so many greasy casseroles after. And one night we were there a big storm blew through. The televisions were on in two rooms of the house through the night, with worry about tornadoes. And I held you and counted the moments between the bright flashes outside and the big booms. Gradually the time between shortened and then the giant crash that came along with the lightening. And then the storm slowly moved off in the other direction and the count got longer and longer.
That was over thirty years ago. And your longest lived brother Sam died in 2009 at age 87. You decided that you would live to a greater age than he did. And you accomplished it, by four years.
I was really scared of that Nebraska storm. It was so comforting to have you there to hold. Like a thundershirt.
The new dog, unlike Princess Birdy, doesn't need a thundershirt because she isn't as frightened of loud noises outside as Miss Birdy was. But it does make her anxious. Mr Winston is just annoyed he has to pee on concrete. The cat is in the study on her thousand dollar chair.
I met with a friend whose spouse's funeral was week before last. She is a writer and reminded me about how healthy writing is. I'll restart my morning pages tomorrow.
I feel like the past three days have been getting me ready for Eugene.