Dear John,
Happy Wednesday night. I apologize for the existential angst I dumped on you last night. And as I say that, I know you don't mind - you always wanted to know what was going on in this head of mine. And I always felt better after you listened. I feel such a need for something like spiritual direction now, some wise person I can talk to. Not a grief recovery group, because the things I want to talk about are much wider in scope than my grief. Doing fairly well can create problems - when you do need help, nobody can see it. You couldn't come tonight after I go to sleep, and just talk to me, could you? No medical crises, no hospitals, no doctors, just sit down and let me talk some of these things over with you? If you can, please come any time.
After Sunday's Liturgy, when I went up to receive the Bishop's blessing, I told him that this was the first tonsuring since yours, and that you had died on last Holy Friday. He remembered us, but hadn't heard about your death. I knew he'd seen me crying during Charlie's tonsuring and I wanted to explain my tears to him. He gave me his blessing for my bereavement, which I was so thankful for. And I thanked him for coming, and told him that he had brought the Resurrection with him.
These things don't fit into words and concepts very well, but they comfort and strengthen me. It feels good to have that blessing - I will watch to see it work in my life. It may be the reason I had such a good day in Shipshe on Monday. There is great power in a Bishop's blessing.

I suppose it has to be hard, having half of the family here and half there. I long for the day of reunion. I won't be whole until I'm back with you. Until then, I do hope to talk to you tonight, but I will understand if you can't make it.
Love you better than life,
Joan.
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