Take off your hat, I want to stand up.

Chapter 51: Ev's last letter.

Chapter 51: Ev's last letter.

The last letter.

I wrote to my mom hundreds of letters over the years. I came upon a good patten of communication habit that was copied after my mom's sister, Verna. The two wrote letters back and forth for forty some odd years. I loved to hear from our Auntie Verna she was always refreshing and down to earth. She curled, golfed, travelled, played bridge and related the events in matter of fact fashion that made for good reads. I carried on this tradition over the years. Ev would write me back, her last note was in January, 1984, she was lonely, sad, depressed, sitting at the lake, reading the bible, listening to the news and contemplating her life. She mentioned the lotto was on the news, extolling the prize of seven million dollars to the lucky winner. She said she had no ticket, but speculated what would anyone do with seven million dollars? She discoursed it would be nice to win. She never got the message that you need to buy a ticket to win. This did not faze her, she still felt she could win.

In the near future she had booked a trip to Maui, leaving in February. I wrote back and said I would meet her at the airport in Calgary. When you lay over to change planes call and I will run out to see you. It was agreed.

I received the call at two in the morning, we are at the airport, but we switched planes and we will only be laying over for about an hour. I said I was dressed and could be out in thirty minutes. She said no, you go back to sleep, we will stay for a visit on the way home.

I felt unsettled as we said our goodbyes. I hung up and shook my head. I thought, man oh man I should go out, even if it was for ten minutes, I felt I needed to see my mom. I could always read Ev, this time I could not. She said she had visions of events and situations that were almost soothsayer in nature, I had the gift as well, but not this time. I went back to sleep, the sleep was troubled and uneasy.

The whole host of events washed over us, like an avalanche of dreary melancholy, Ev broke her neck the very next week. I read her last unfinished letter every once in awhile. A few years ago I noticed she had misdated the letter, still makes me smile