Tag Archives: note

A note from Richard

Death, Dreams, Family, Friends, Memories, Writing, , ,

In Mom’s final years she reconnected with Richard, a friend from school. He was kind to her and genuinely loved her. He spent part of each day with her, sometimes spending the night. This was especially helpful after her dementia diagnosis. He knew about it long before my brother and I did; although I’d seen some signs I chose to ignore them.

While Richard was staunchly Catholic and went to church every Sunday, he didn’t force his religious views on anyone.

Once Mom was moved to my brother’s house Richard visited her at least twice weekly even though she rarely seemed to know who he was. She was always very happy to see him, so she must have known he was someone she loved and who loved her.

The night Mom died I had a dream that she rose out of her bed and seemed to want to escape the house, standing at the window on her tiptoes, arms fluttering behind her like a moth, eventually shattering into millions of sparks. I recounted this dream to Pastor Keith who we asked to speak at her funeral and he included it verbatim in his sermon. After the service Richard asked for a copy of both Pastor Keith’s sermon and what I said at the funeral.

A few days after the funeral I received this note from Richard:

Dear Donna [sic],

Thank you for your letter of your mom’s life and last night.

I really liked your dream of Pat’s looking out of the window at a bright light on tippy toes.

I think that whs the time she passed and touched the face of God.

May she rest in peace,

Richard Peabody, September 2016

Typed Note from Frances

Friends, Memories, Photographs, Things, ,

I’ve written about Frances a lot here. She was our next-door neighbor when we moved to the DC area in 1985. She and I became fast friends, even though she was forty-seven years older than I when we first met. We only lived next door to each other for a year while we rented a house in Alexandria, but we continued our friendship after that.

She sent me this typed post card in 1990. I guess I sent her a couple of photos of her back yard. I’ll have to find them someday. She mentions physical therapy and insurance. I think that was due to an accident we were in a few months before that — we were rear ended at a stop light. The truck behind us thought we were turning right on red but I knew that intersection and didn’t turn right. The driver got out and screamed at me. Frances ended up with whiplash — which at 81 wasn’t a good thing to have.

June 10 Dear Dona, I’ve been trying to write this card to you ever since you sent me the photos…I love the one of you and Dean — and even like mine a lot….And it’s nice to have a good shot of my azaleas! Thanks…you are a fine photographer.

I’m glad your school is practically over and I can expect to see you sometime…Am also eager to know if you have any definite plans for next year.

I’ve had an awful lot to do lately…Finished my physical therapy about 2 weeks ago and am hoping I won’t have to fool with many more papers for the insurance co…Lots of other types of business to take care of also.

Call me! Love, Frances

Birthday Note to My Dad

Family, , ,

I wasn’t sure what the movie that we missed out on was or what restaurant we went to, but I remember the jazz bar where we listened to new-age jazz (I don’t know why I put them in quotation marks). It was a dive bar where one could hear live bands at the time. Since then it’s been a German Octoberfest kind of restaurant and a Belgian Mussel bar kind of place. I am not sure the building is even there anymore.

My dad’s birthday was March 7 — I was always late sending cards and gifts. Still am. It’s kind of pathetic that I spent much of the birthday letter berating myself for it being late.

We hardly ever had a babysitter, so this was pretty special. Too bad we didn’t really enjoy it.

March 6, 1996

Dear Dad,

As you can tell from the date, I won’t get this mailed in time to get to you for your birthday. I always have good intentions, but don’t act on them. Sorry once again.

Hope you had a great birthday. Your present will be even later than this letter. Mailing things just isn’t my favorite thing to do. If I had been smart I would have gotten you something and mailed last Friday when I mailed Brandon’s gift. (Don’t feel bad, I also mailed a gift to Chris Culler, Diane’s son, whose birthday was in January.)

The kids are drawing pictures. Dean is doing the dishes. I am really tired. I think it is the pollen in the air. (or could it be the late nights and early mornings?)

We got a babysitter last weekend. It was a “teacher” from the kids’ day care. I think we will use her again. She played with the kids the entire time. They both woke up asking for her.

Actually I think the kids had a better time than we did. The restaurant where we ate was overpriced and not so good (the food was delicious, not exquisite). Then we didn’t get into the movie we wanted to see. We ended up at a “fern bar” listening to “new-age jazz” played by a clone of Terry O’Connor. The music was fine but I ended up having too much chardonnay.

The kids found out it was your birthday and now you have a bunch of drawings for the fridge.

We love and miss you.

Love,
Dean, Dona, Clare, and Andrew