Dear All

Last night I just caught a fragment of a preview of an upcoming program where a young woman is looking up laughing and she says, " Now I'm ready to be happy again."

This rather stunned me because I have been thinking about that. Not dwelling upon it mournfully, feeling sorry for myself but a little light went on in there.

My life has changed so much that I don't even recognize it anymore. It seems so disorganized and scattered. I still miss my house on Baker Street, my neighbors I have known for 20+ years. I miss the sound of the ships coming in to the inland Port of Stockton, their decorations in season, mournful toots in the fog. Although I love my church here I still miss Grace Brethren in Ripon, the orchards of grapes, walnuts and almonds along the road. I haven't found a decent Mexican or Chinese (decent meaning authentic) restaurant. Although there is one in Denison but that is practically in another weather pattern from here.

Occasionally there will be a damp, cold and foggy day here, taking me back to walking down the chill of Baker Street or enjoying fishing the Delta, enjoying Spring flowers or Winter's bright blooms. I left what I called a "Pregnant Onion" growing faithfully in a large chicken pot to my still friend Amy. (At Lauritzen Gardens in Omaha it is called "False Sea Onion" and I'm not allowed to take one of the tiny bulbs falling from the side: "what if everyone did that?" I doubt if anyone has even noticed with this delightful flower hidden as it was. Just in case you are wondering, I was obedient.)

Driving Tim back and forth to his day center I've had great moments of clarity, more time to think and talk aloud about life. Often I'm a legend in my own mind. This mental greatness is of course forgotten as the car door closes. Because I'm unable to drive while talking on the phone (a reality, not  just a law) it's not possible for me to speak into a recorder of some type. Just not happening. All my brilliance is lost into the air.

Next week I turn 60. A few weeks ago my fortune cookie told me to "listen to the voice of the old." Ha! There you are. 60 is the new 40. Am I ready to be happy again?