Louisiana, enjoying her day off from work (she took a personal day) and the peace and quiet of not having kids around (they started school today), writes her friend in Alaska a letter.
She writes about the upcoming anniversary of the September 11, 2001, terror attacks, and also about the Muscular Dystrophy Telethon, in which she and her family partook in. She also shares some devastating news about her only granddaughter in Colorado, who may be starting to display symptoms of a possible neuromuscular disorder.
Tuesday, the 7th of September, 2004~
Dear Jenna Aurora:
Hello! Thank you for writing; I am sorry for not answering your letter sooner; but raising the crew I have, and working at the hospital, I just don't have much in the way of free time. I hope you understand why I haven't written in a while.
I hope this finds you and Michael well; it seems hard to believe but this weekend (Saturday) we will be in Louisiana, attending your wedding. It sure has a way of sneaking up on you when you don't expect it, doesn't it? I pray (and hope) we have a safe trip to Louisiana (Bill, Johnny, Ronee', Barbara, and myself are coming; thought you would like to know!), and I pray and hope we don't have any more attacks on our country.
As you and Michael are probably well aware, Saturday marks the three-year anniversary of the terrorist attacks upon our country where over 2,000 people died; and it is a sad day of rememberance and tributes to the fallen. I still remember that day as though it only happened just yestarday, and I don't think I shall ever forget of the horrific images that played (and replayed) on tv screens all over the world, especially when the Twin Towers fell in a heap of smoke and rubble and the disbelief and then horror that shone on our faces as we tried to come to grips over what had happened and then grieving and praying over those who had died at the hands of evildoers. I don't know if you know this, Jenna, but I personally lost some friends in the attacks, and I know people who lost loved ones and friends; so the terror attacks hit me particularly hard. I may not have been there, but I did know people who worked at the Twin Towers, and I knew some of the firefighters and rescue personnel who perished; and I knew some of those families who were most dierectly affected by the tragedy. This is something I haven't told very many people, but it is a time of great sorrow and mourning for me; and no matter how many years have gone by, I still can't get over it, and every time I think of those beautiful towers, I can't help but cry. I have been TO those towers, and unless you had the opportunity to have seen them as I have, you can't possibly imagine the grandeur or splendor of those buildings and how big they really were!
Now they are no more, and now whenever I see the New York City skyline on tv, it looks--empty--, and it doesn't look as it once did; and every time I see it, I can't help but to cry.
I guess I will never understand what was the motive behind the attacks, or why people so full of hate and jealousy would do such a horrible and heinous crime against humanity, let alone a nation like America; but what was done was done, and there is nothing we can do to change what happened; and somehow, some way, we MUST move on and carry on with our lives as best as we can, and also not forget of what happened and why things are the way they are now. This is a different world we live in, and today, nearly three years later, people still ask and wonder why September 11, 2001, had to happen.
But on to more pleasantries: today finds me all alone with the computer, and my Pomeranian, "Cajun Gold", who is sitting in my lap, looking up at me with so much love and devotion on her little furry face; just a grinnin' away! She is one pampered pooch, and she is great company! I have had her for about two years now, and she has been such a delightful little dog! She goes with me just about everywhere (yes, even to work, but she stays in my office while I do my nursely duties; don't need a tiny, active, furry little Pomeranian loose in the hospital! LOL), and she is small (and light) enough to fit inside my purse! She is such a sweet tempered little dog, but she does pick on our Great Dane, "Marmaduke", and you should see those two when they get into one of their wrestling matches! LOL She also thinks she is part pit bull, and she makes a great little watchdog; nothing gets past HER eyes or HER nose! LOL Our mailman absolutely hates her because she snaps at his ankles when he delivers the mail; and he can't stand her yappy barking! LOL I tell our mailman she is absolutely harmless; but so far I haven't been able to convince him! LOL Yes, "Cajun Gold" IS my little ankle-bitin' watchdog! LOL She could really give those terrorists reasons to give up their dastardly ways! LOL Talk about a weapon of mass destruction! LOL Four pounds of orange-gold fluff, sharp little needle teeth, and a killer bark to go along with the package! LOL Yes, my little Pom would do well in Iraq! LOL
Today also finds me enjoying the silence that is such a rare commodity around the Sandusky place. Today, the kids have started school, and I won't expect them back until sometime later this afternoon, about three-three thirty. Last year, they got out about two-thirty, but this year, they get out later, which is great news for me; this way, I can get more done, and I can also have a little more time to myself! Bill is gone too: he went to work about an hour ago, and he doesn't get off until six. So the house belongs totally to the animals and myself. But if that darn ol Mackie doesn't stop cursing like that (I can hear him in the other room, and he is NOT being a very nice little birdie!), I am going to duct-tape his beak closed and cook him! (NOT really, but he IS starting to get on my nerves, FAST!)
Did you watch the Labor Day telethon yesterday? We did; in fact, we were AT the WSM tv studios, participating IN the telethon. We answered phones and took donations, and we also enjoyed the local performers and got to meet some of the local people being helped by the local chapter of the MDA (including my son, Johnny), and we all had a great time! My daughter, Ronee', was bragging that she got a donation of over $1,000 from a generous old soul, and she was tickled pink at hearing the amount the gentleman was donating. Seems that he has two grandsons, twins, aged 5, who both have MD; so he wanted to do all he could so his grandsons could have a future and hope for a cure in their lifetime!
But the telethon was so sad: it was dedicated in the memory of Mattie J.T. Stepanek, the brave young poet who died at 13 back in June after battling a rare form of muscular dystrophy; and throughout the program, they had tributes and memorials for Mattie. It was all very moving; and we cried more than once. We also were moved by the courage displayed by the current MDA National Poster Child, a little five-year-old angel named Morgan Fike from North Carolina; and her father, a firefighter, was in tears as he eloquently and passionately spoke about his little girl. But Mattie Stepanek was the true "Star" of this year's telethon, and it was so sad at not seeing his sweet smile or hearing his message of hope and courage as he spoke to people about his struggles, or shared his gifted mind or his poetry.
Seeing and hearing the tributes to Mattie Stepanek only made me think of my own Mattie, my brave and courageous little son, Johnathon, who continues to wage a daily struggle against MD, and as he grows older, the ravages of the disease are sadly becoming more apparent, and we wonder if he will have another year or two at life, or what his quality of life will be like before he dies. Yet, like Mattie, Johnny has such a courageous and uplifting spirit about him, and whenever people see him, they are always moved. He is hardly ever sad, and he always has such a smile on his face and such joy in his bright blue eyes! He is 11 1/2 now, and we are hopeful that he will get to see a cure occur before he DOES die! (Doctors are still giving Johnny only a few more years at best at survival. They don't think he will live to the age of 13 or 14 at the most. If he DOES live beyond that, it will be a miracle!)
I am sorry for going on like this, but Labor Day is always a day of sadness yet joy for us. We live with neuromuscular disease each and every day, as we have a child with it, and we have also learned that our only granddaughter, Jamee, who is now six-and-a-half, is herself starting to have possible symptoms of a neuromuscular disorder. She is having unexplained weakness in her muscles and she is starting to have problems walking: she falls a lot, which isn't like her. This has been going on for a little over a month now; and after seeing her pediatrician, he referred her to a specialist in neuromuscular diseases. I will keep you posted on this situation; we just found out about it the other day, and we are understandably devastated and shocked at the news. I feel so bad for her mother, my oldest daughter, Lightning, because Lightning is seriously physically disabled herself (spasticity, cerebral palsy in all four limbs), and I don't know what will happen if Jamee were to become disabled herself. How would Lightning care for her when she struggles with such significant physical disability herself?
I will write more later; I am crying again. It seems that is all I have done the past few days, ever since the telethon, and then finding out about Jamee. I also have been on the verge of tears, what with the anniversary of September 11, 2001, fastly approaching, and as much as I would love to forget, I CAN'T. I MUST remember, and I MUST remember my friends or loved ones who lost friends or family members in the attacks against our country and remember the fallen! I will see you and Michael in a few days; until then, take care, and God bless! Love you both!
~Lovingly, your friend in Tennessee, Louisiana Mayrah. :( >tears<
Want to review or comment on this short story?
Need a FREE Reader Membership?
Reviewed by P. Michaels
9/18/2004
Karen, the sadness in this letter makes one feel like crying. Cajun Gold sounds like she's very healthy, happy, and enjoying life though. You write very nice letters, but they're mostly melancholy.
Let this coming of age story of a boy named Bean take you back to a simple time. Set in a small southern town in the 1960's, encircled by a river and gleaming white cotton fields.
Let this coming of age story of a boy named Bean take you back to a simple time. Set in a small southern town in the 1960's, encircled by a river and gleaming white cotton fields.
Tuesday, the 7th of September, 2004~
