Heavenletters

Karen Darling:
I call everyone darling. It turns out that that's what they are. Thanks for the condolence regarding the passing of my wife. I had the joy of having her for 64 years. She finished her course at age 81. Atrial fib had required open heart surgery but even before that she was approaching the lovely threshold of her path; she knew it, called each of our children to her side, loved on them, laughed with them, told her baby who is two years older than you where she wanted him to spread her ashes, then told me that she wanted to pass in Georgia so American Airlines lovingly took us here. She lived one more week. On her last day she raised her sweet happy face in surprise and said: "Hon, who are the two men with the keys?" I lovingly replied that we were alone in the house. She smiled a crooked, darling smile and said: "Sweetie, there's one at the foot of my bed and one over by my port a potty." As evening closed around us she said: "Honey, cuddle me now!" One of her celestial guides told her that God's Clock was chiming for her. I got in bed fully dressed, held her precious, wasted form and sang to her quietly for two hours until her eyes closed in what seemed to me to be sleep, when it really was REST. Sure I miss her. In a happy way I grieve that she is not at my side. Adjustment is slow.
The war is unspeakable. On very few occasions I talk about seeing my friends shooting young Japanese boys running out of caves with their clothes burning. I watched big bulldozers push the burned men into holes in the sand and cover them. We were too busy to contemplate the implications of what we were seeing; we didn't take time or have the time to feel things then. My ship, an APA 143 came close to going down twice while I was aboard. No, I wasn't afraid, we were too busy. But then, death has never frightened me. Thanks for the e-mail. Love
George the wrinkled happy elf