My Christmas/Thank you cards are going out at the end of the week, mostly to the four hundred or so people who sent condolences, brought food, or simply stopped by and offered to keep the kids or walk the dog. Some jobs were easy, some not so easy. Thankfully I didn't get four hundred casseroles, but I got an awful lot of cards and letters with funny little memories of Jacob.
Edward Gorey's angels and hot air balloons. Who knew there was a more perfect card out there for this princess? Yes of course it's morbid and almost virtually tasteless too. Exactly how I needed it to be.
No worries, everyone who gets one will proclaim it to be perfect because it's from me and I'm rather weird.
I'll have all the addresses on envelopes by the end of the week. I've got the kids home today for the snowstorm and Henry has another ear infection and Ruth a bad cold so we bailed on the day and it puts me behind for being able to work on things during the day while I can still write legibly with a pen. That ability tends to disappear after 6 pm.
Mostly the reason I told you about my ridiculous Christmas death cards was to share them with you too. If I had the wherewithal or my act together to make up another two hundred cards to send to those of you who have taken the time to email me with good thoughts and comforts I would but honestly I don't. I don't have the energies to reply to anyone. I can hardly read some of them.
I don't know why you care about me. I don't know why you come back. I like that you do, and I bet you are stronger than I am. I wouldn't come back if I didn't live in here, inside my head.
I wish for you nothing but the best this holiday season.
