The Mail

by | May 22, 2011 | 1 comment

After a birthday party today, I was pretty worn out by late afternoon.

In the mail today, an envelope from an old coworker of yours.

Inside, a notebook another coworker found when she was cleaning out her desk.  It was yours.

In it are a few notes regarding your work.  And a few doodles.

I cry as I run my fingers over the indentations of the ink of the little people you drew.  Audrey is beside me saying “It’s OK mommy, it’s OK.”  I’m so sorry she has to see me like this sometimes.  I wasn’t expecting this in the mail.  I wasn’t prepared.

And then, my new checks come.  Last week I went in to the bank to remove your name from our account.  I hadn’t been able to do that yet.  To make it even more difficult, the bank required I close our account and open a completely new one.  So goodbye to our old account number- and…shared checks.

I opened the checks and was surprised by the smaller looking name and address in the upper left hand corner- just mine.  This is happening.  This is really happening.  It’s just me now.

JAC

May 22, 2011

1 Comment

  1. christy vinson

    Even Dan's stick people are artistic…

    Reply

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published.

You May Also Like…

List-making in a Dark Time

List-making in a Dark Time

For any other list-makers out there, I published this on HerStories yesterday.""In this time of quarantine, my lists are offering me space outside of the walls of my home, a way of making sense of chaos, a self-imposed structure on structure-less days, and even a way...

Simple Things

Simple Things

"In our deepest self we keep living with the illusion that we will always be the same." Henri Nowen "It's really very simple," my late spiritual director, Gladys, once said to me. She was talking about how she lived each day, waking up, having a written conversation...

Continuous Living

Continuous Living

"Anxiety turns us toward courage, because the other alternative is despair." Paul Tillich I've claimed "seasonal affective disorder" for years, and that may be so, but I'm starting to realize it's not only summer to fall that is hard for me. It's winter to spring, and...