DAY 2: MONDAY in Postcards 4

After coffee and toast, we headed off In our rental to pick up our night worker daughter, Milaka. I was hoping she would come with us today thinking Dixie might remember her. Dixie often talked about the last visit she made so many years ago.

Beautiful country. Stunning reds and golds mixed in with the saturated forest greens up and down the gentle hills. Passion in color all around us.

When we called her, dear Dixie said she knew we were coming. What we didn’t know was that she was so worried she would miss us she called us here at home several times a day.

When we first met, I was 14 and she was 13. We have many years of shared history from Junior High School homework to gossip, summer camp to raising children and everything in between. Years later, I was the matron of honor at her wedding. As I climbed her rough cement steps this Monday noon, I expected to see my friend. When she opened the door she looked at me with a blank face.

It took childlike enthusiasm on my part to bring any recognition to her face.

It took a childlike enthusiasm on my part to talk through a lunch where she did seem to remember some of our childhood. She ended up gripping my hand and wouldn’t let go. When we dropped her home, she couldn’t find her keys in her purse. Accurately, she kept saying her son took everything out of her purse. Milaka tried the front door and found it open.

I cried as we drove away. I could see her pink shirt through the glass both hands waving back and forth…back and forth.

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• Himself:


• Herself: Another long slow death. Glad she has a son living with her.


• Captain Poolie: Her body was too fragile to attempt the surgery when we left. (Now: The blood clot got moving so they installed a net to catch it. On Friday they felt she was strong enough to remove the stents. Sunday one kidney needed iced.)


• Reading: To Powells books tomorrow.


• Gratitude’s: That I had a friend like Dixie for so many years.

Last updated October 30, 2017