Below is today’s letter to my parents. I hope it’s legible enough for them to read. After hundreds and hundreds of typed letters, this is the first time ever I’ve been forced to resort to a handwritten version (see my aversion to handwriting in the April 28 post). My printer at home is on the #$%^&* fritz. There’s a certain romance or artistry to hand written letters but if you saw my cursive, you’d call the printer repairman for me.
I appreciate that you’ve stuck with me during what is essentially a protracted family situation of watch, wait, and pray. What we face is far from unique. I appreciate, too, your support based on what many of you have already gone through.
As you’ve seen, the kids have been kept up to speed on everything in as much detail as can be provided. But in the rush to supply as much candor as possible, both Ellen and Reid have nosed around aloud as they read between the lines; i.e. ‘how are you doing, dad?’, ‘what are we going to do when the time comes for us down the road?’, among other observations. In times like these letters are just one element of the familial dialogue. Perhaps each serves as food for thought or as a single page of conversation starters.
There are no adequate answers right now to what they ask. My guess is that answers will be arrived at over time as today’s sequence of events begins to gel and take on the perspective that only time can provide. Letters will figure in there somewhere but will be far from the only arbiter of what makes sense.
June 25, 2010
Mom and Dad: Excuse the longhand. My printer went AWOL and this is the best I can do.
There is a little bit of good news. Reid will join me in Omaha next weekend. We both arrive at about the same time in the late afternoon. Dad, we will head to the house for your car then head to L_________. If you are sleeping, we’ll wake you up briefly to say hi and then we will see you again first thing Sunday for breakfast. We are both excited to see you and grandma. We have a lot of old photographs of family that we would like to identify. That has really captured Reid’s interest. Ellen may come, too, if she can make it. In more good news, she has a second round of interviews Monday for a teaching job in the Minneapolis schools.
My tomatoes are coming in although small; the size of tennis balls. I clearly don’t have your gardening skills.
We all love you guys very much, and we can’t wait to see you. Hang in there!