I have been feeling the need to write you this letter, even though I know that you cannot read it. Still, I believe that you are in Heaven, or purgatory, though I hope not there. I just know you are not in hell. You were too good, dear Constance, though flawed to be in hell.
What then can I tell you? I am here with my mother temporarily. It is a good thing you left this awful world, as the way you and her got on, we’d all be miserable. The dogs are fine. I had the wee one at the vet on Monday and the vet said that he has back troubles. He can no longer jump up or onto beds or the furniture. He must be lifted on and off. The vet said should he continue to jump, he could blow his discs intirely and become paralysed. This is taking some getting used to in a way, though the bed here is so high that I’ve been lifting him up or making him use the pet steps. Still, sometimes, he gets away from me and jumps down on his own. It is a constant source of worry for me, as you might imagine.
I was thinking about last Christmas. I was thinking that it was the best Christmas ever I had. I wish I had known that it was the last Christmas I’d have with you. I would have done so much, said so much in those final months. I would have been kinder, less short tempered, more patient.
Anyhow, I must confess to being a wee bit depressed these last few days. I think it is not knowing exactly where I am going. I am going to Mass on Thursday, I do know that much. It is a holy day of obligation for Catholics and I am going. I have told my father that he is taking me. Demanded, in fact. He must go to church more often.
I am reading this book The Stranger in the Woods. I was thinking about returning it, because though I was invested in finding out what happened to the characters, I was not that invested in actually reading the book. It seemed like a good story, but honestly, it didn’t grab me. With the intention of deleting the book from my phone and returning it, I asked Carrie to fill me in. When she told me what she could remember, I became intrigued. I am now fully invested. There are two reasons for this. One is that I want to know now how all the different pieces fit together. The second is that I want to read The Witch with No Name, the next book in The Hollows series that we were due to read together and I won’t have room for it until I finish this one.
I find myself missing you more and more the last few days. I think of you often. Happy memories, sad times, and all the times in between.
Well, I shall close this letter for now. It is late and I must prepare to retire. I must put the dogs out for a last run in the garden, drink my herbal drink and go to bed. Klonopin refill Friday. Can’t wait. Very anxious.