Dear Jamie,                                                                                                                       January 29, 2004


I guess we’ve gone about 20 months here since you’ve gone over. It doesn’t seem believable. I know I keep saying that, but that’s just how it continues to feel.

I’ve been up at Shelly’s house for a few days. I’ve been on my crutches since the middle of November, and have not been working. It’s been interesting being “disabled”. I remember when I went in for surgery, I was thinking that no matter how much I went through, it would be nothing compared to what you went through in your little 5 year old body. Yours was intense and didn’t last long. Mine is just lasting a while and it’s not too bad at all. What a silly thing to compare at all, really; my bunion surgery and the death of your body. But it seems that most things in my life are held up in the light, or the darkness maybe, of the departure. 

So, I’m riding the Amtrak down to San Diego. The amazing ocean stretches out to my left, and the foothills rise up to the right, and I look forward to where I’ve already been. It would be great to have you here. It is truly a beautiful day- sunny but not hot. I’ve got my laptop, and my headphones, and Don Conoscenti singing to me “Tell ‘em all I did not die; I’m just over on the other side”. It makes my cry, and I hope it’s true. I believe it is. 

Ma passed away a day before the year began. I imagine you must know that, and that you must have already met her. I know she planned to look for you. It is my great hope that you are with her at least some of the time. She means so much to me. You mean so much to me. Two of my favorite people moved from their skin and from their home on this earth.

Carol Johnson also left last Monday. She also told us she looked forward to meeting you.
Have you seen her? We got to know her better recently and really like her a lot. I think Earl will be over there soon, too, to join Carol and say hi to you from us.

A_____ has been diagnosed with cancer and is going through chemotherapy. She’s a little trooper. We are so sad to see her having to go through so much, but she is the only one who doesn’t seem to be bothered too much by her illness and treatment.

The world is a beautiful, sad, wonderful and painful place to be. Wish you were here.


Love,
Dad