God bless your mother! I woke up still miserable, but I had the sense to know what to do. I called your mother, talked to her for an hour, and feel much better - nearly human, in fact. She helps so much. After talking to her I know that I'm normal and I'm not alone. There are some things I need that only another widow can do.
I forgot to tell you: A few days ago I was on CR 40, and went under the track just as a train was going overhead. And I did what you always did for me - I turned Muddy Waters off, rolled the windows down, and sat under the track for a minute. I always appreciated that so much! I don't know if you ever understood why I liked it, but you did it for me anyway.
You respected the way I felt even if you didn't feel the same way. You took me to Lake Michigan occasionally so I could see water with no visible land on the other side, arranged for us to spend a night in the Lizzie Borden house, let me ride on top of the ferry to Mackinac Island no matter what the weather was like, went to yarn shops with me - the list in endless. I remember you driving through New York State on the way to Cooperstown, when you made a sudden left turn that nearly threw me out the window because you'd seen a sign for Holy Myrrhbearers Monastery. We never did get to Cooperstown that day, and you weren't even Orthodox then. But you knew that going there would mean a lot to me, so left we turned - I had no idea where you were taking us until we pulled up at the monastery. You were so good to me.
Oh, another thing I forgot to tell you - but you probably know already, knew before I did. Fr. Peter Gilquist died yesterday. It was expected, but we'll all miss him. And you have another friend there with you.
God grant that I may come soon! Love you so much,