Flora,
10 great lessons you taught me in your (relatively) short life:
1. It is o.k. to relax and enjoy the sunshine.
2. Wings are not always meant for flying -- sometimes they are meant to nurture and protect.
3. The most wonderful things are often buried in the dirt.
4. Only trust those who are good to you.
5. You can't keep treasures all for yourself.
6. Comfort is in the company.
7. Surround yourself with those who share your best interest.
8. Always forgive and forget.
9. You still must forage, even when it rains.
10. Even if you are unable to fly, you can still run very, very fast!
Thank you!
Lizzy
Dear "Mr Atkins",
I looked for you beneath your bridge this morning on my way to work. Both you and your bedroll were gone. I don't know where you go during the day -- are you one of the many hungry faces I see standing on the corner, begging for food? Once I saw you sitting in your tattered military coat, drinking coffee from a styrofoam cup -- it's steam rising in the cold morning air. I was so happy to see that you survived the frigid night (Your friend, Charlie, was not so lucky and his face still haunts my memory).
How did you wind up on the street? Did you wake up one day and find everything you had worked so hard for had just slipped away from you? All of your dreams and plans for your life shattered in an instant?
You were prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice for our country and in return you were abandoned and forgotten under a bridge. I wish there was some way I could repay you, but what is the price for freedom?
Please know that I will continue to search for you,
Lizzie Smit
My dearest Tom,
Tonight (so many years ago) you professed your great love for me while asking for my hand in marriage. You promised to love and respect me forever, and I know you were sincere in that promise.
Some marriages seem to be an endless stream of better days, while others are never able to recover before the next destructive wave hits. Instead of peacefully riding out the waves together, they struggle, fight and resist each other and the marriage often ends in ruins.
Life will always have its ups and downs -- its "for better" and "for worse". Good moments will fill us with such joy and we hope they will last a lifetime; but, when the dark times come, it will seem impossible to see the light that is hidden from us.
Please do not forget the way you love me tonight, and I beg of you to draw upon it in the future, when our world will be shattered and we will become strangers to one another.
With all the love in my heart,
Lizzy
Dear Wyatt,
I was reading up on you today and, I must admit, you seem to walk the fine line between enforcer of the law and criminal.
What I read made me wonder: did your dubious past finally catch up to you? Are you a product of your past transgressions? Or were you just misunderstood in your attempts to build a butter life?
Why is it that no matter how much we try and detach ourselves from the past events, people closest to us can't seem to do likewise? No matter how much we change, they assume we remain the same. Perhaps you and I are similar in this plight, being blamed for wrondoings that were out of our control...
But the question still remains, Mr. Earp: Are you the shepherd or are you the wolf?
Respectfully,
Lizzy Smit
My Dearest Mother Mary,
Easter break is over and it's back to work as usual. Watching a 2 yr old and how her mother struggled to keep her quiet reminded me of the boys when they were that age. I miss their chubby dimpled hands, squeals of laughter, and their soft cheeks. I was so busy trying to care for them, I didn't fully appreciate them as much as I should have. Now, I am filled with so much regret and I feel the need to hold on to every precious moment while I still can.
When you knew you were going to be a mother, did you ever fear for the day you would have to say "good bye"? That no matter how desperately you tried, you could never hold on to any specific point in time? That one day your kisses would no longer stop your child's pain?
The past has been so difficult and I worry about what the future holds. I know I should just focus on getting through the day -- but this seems impossible to me and I can't help but cry out to you in this Vale of Tears...
Lizzy
John,
I can't believe it has only been a week since I last saw your blue eyes -- always sparkling with laughter and mischief. The doctors say you didn't suffer ("he just quietly passed in his sleep") and I hope they are right. I would be lying if I said I wasn't suffering due to the loss of you.
The funeral was lovely. You would have laughed at how everyone has practically canonized you a saint! Your grave overlooks a nice pond that was filled with geese while we were there. I admit I had to stifle a few giggles because their honking noises were so loud we couldn't hear the priest. (Did you put them up to that ?!?)
I will miss you sneaking off with our Wall Street Journal in the morning, and it just won't be the same around here without you shooting at the rabbits as they raid your vegetable garden.
I will try and visit you sometime next week (I'll bring the Wall St. Journal for you!)
Much love,
Lizzy
P.S. - I hope you don't mind that I took your orchids. They were in full bloom today and I couldn't help it.
Dear "Katie",
I was sitting behind you at the game tonight and I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed watching you at the game tonight. My daughter would have been about your age and I couldn't help but think about what she would have done, had she been there.
Would she have taken as much delight as you did with that cotton candy -- getting the sticky floss all over her face and long golden hair? And when the team scored a goal, would she have danced around with you to try and catch the confetti as it fell from the top of the stadium...two giggling, pink-clad fairies amid a sea of blue?
I never got to hold my little girl in my arms as she drifted off to sleep, but will always hold her memory in my heart and hope one day we will meet in Heaven.
Take care. little "Katie". May you always find joy in the little pleasures of life and may you never stop dancing.
Lizzy Smit
