Hand written note

It's quiet here in the house at the moment - my favorite time for writing. I haven't actually written Soldier Tom a letter since December because we communicate during the week quite often via Yahoo messenger or email, but I do like to write and send clippings occasionally. And 99% of the time, I type it out and include photos and funny clip arts into my typing. Today since it is quiet I thought I would actually hand write. I love fountain pens and have a nice collection, but a special one is one Soldier Tom gave me for my birthday last year. You know how much you treasure those unique gifts from your children! This fountain pen is extra special because it came from him.

A few years back when I was caring for Brian, I would sit at the dining room table - the dining room was right next to his room. I could watch him easily, you see, we never left him alone for any length of time. We were always concerned about his respiratory problems and he also had seizures. From the dining room table I would write letters to our friends about Brian's condition and the rest of the news of our family. I could write pages and pages of news and information. I did have a principle not to "complain" or "whine" but to inform. I felt no matter how bad we had it, there was always someone else who worse problems. For a short time, Bob and I with Brian, attended a meeting for Traumatic Brain Injured individuals. The TBI patients and their parents attended. Everyone but Brian was active and could talk and move and none in that particular group were as severe as Brian was. Bob and I listened to their struggles hoping to learn. Apart for the difficulties of the lifestyle of caring for a TBI patient whether a child or adult, the majority of their problems however were with their doctors, the hospitals and insurance coverage. It was a huge struggle for them. We were more fortunate in that case because Brian did have coverage with the Veteran's Administration and was classified 100% disabled as a result of his accident which meant he receive excellent benefits. I can't say that I didn't have to fight for many of Brian's benefits, but I know in that way we were better off than those trying to get proper care through civilian methods. It was very necessary to become very savvy and fight, but the benefits were there. It wasn't easy, don't get me wrong, but Brian did have full coverage. We were very grateful for that regardless of anything else. I realized early on, there was always something worse to deal with until later when Brian died. My life changed. I stopped writing letters. I had a broken heart and could not put the pain into words. It took several years until I could "express" how I felt, and even still, after almost nine years I cannot go into some of the depths of sadness I felt then and still now.

In general, and on a level thinking space, I do enjoy writing but unfortunately, getting older and having acquired arthritis the written word is curtailed and disrupted from what once was a beautiful handwriting. It is discouraging and probably one reason I hesitate to hand write letters more often. I do think taking the time to write a personal letter by hand is the purest expression of friendship and love. Using a word processor program is quick and there's the availability of the spell checker and thesaurus too. I do have a big Oxford Thesaurus and Dictionary available even with the spell checker fails. I recall when I attended Catholic schools back in the day when things were extremely articulate we were taught to turn in hand written pure clean papers with no scratched out words. And, the exception would if you did make an error, only one clear clean line through the word and make the correction next to the misspelled word. A neat paper was the utmost goal as pursued by our teacher back then. There are habits I learned fifty years ago that remains, another was the finger position when I was playing the piano. If you were never taught this way, you wouldn't realize the advantage or the beauty in these two simple things.

I hear the beep of the coffee pot telling me I have a fresh pot of Dunkin Donut coffee ready to be savored. The sun is shinning through the bay window in the kitchen where I can observe and enjoy the peace of the morning and watch the hummingbirds feed on the feeders outside the sunny window. Having a calm environment will relate to the words I put on paper for Tom to read and experience. He'll be coming stateside soon so in the next couple of weeks, I'll be sending fewer letters to Iraq ----- unless he's sent back.

I hope you are well. I hope you have a blessed calm day with little worries. God be with you.