Dear John,
It's been clear and in the low 80s today, and there's a beautiful sunset. Jethro and Maggie are in the front windows, Hunter at the back door, and Abby on the bed. The petunias are making the whole house smell good.
I watched American Masters on PBS this afternoon. The first show was about the rise of the singer-songwriter, and focused on Carole King and James Taylor. The second was about Woody Guthrie. That made all subsequent television look banal, hence the evening spent listening to the birds.
They played part of Carole King's Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow, and I heard something in it that I never have before. It's probably because I've been thinking lately about the people who think that it's creepy that I still love you. But today I heard the song as if you were asking me that at your burial. And what a silly question! But there are many, many people who think that the love between a husband and wife ends with the end of the funeral. They must not really believe in eternal life - they must think that death ends a person's existence. It's still silly, since as a species we are quite good at loving things and people who don't exist. But so many people think that.

So be forewarned: You are stuck with me. I love you and I always will. And, if Jen doesn't want it, I will be buried in my wedding ring. And we'll never be separated again.
Stuck to you like glue,
Joan.
No comments:
Post a Comment