Morning T,

I’m writing to you from Edna’s kitchen.  She’s in the study working on Mendi’s books but even with a persistent cough she continues on, stopping just long enough to take care of me with a cappuccino and some bread, your favorite kind- slice of a baguette.

As Elsie and Linda read my last letter, they  touched on my last line, often where I make the most sense.

What a wonderful place to miss you T.  I couldn’t have found the treasures here without you.

As I sit here in the quiet of the morning,in the middle of this lovely desert town, I glance behind me and remember when we stayed here together, a break in your resolve to politely refuse all friend/family invitations for sleep overs. But that evening sitting with Mendi and Edna, sharing a lovely dinner with wine and desert air, we moved away from the usual small talk.  I don’t remember the details, but more, the intention and honesty in the stories we shared together.

Being back here in January sadly, it was too windy to sit outside in the evening air, but inside the quality of conversation continued, even with Edna’s persistent cough that I hope she finds remedy from when she meets with her doctor this afternoon.  Edna persevered, sharing  a wonderful story about how you, so desperate to get to Israel  with Lydia and her family, you came to her parents to borrow some money for the trip. But of course you had to leave them with something precious. You offered them a special  piece of wool perfect for a winter coat. Of course they agreed even though, sadly, the wool was stolen before a coat could be made.  I’m sure you are remembering this as I continue to learn more about you as I open more and more treasure chests with your name inscribed.

As we spoke together I remembered some of our ongoing conversations as we began our life together.  Maybe because of the 23 years that separated us or maybe because you went through what I’m going through now, but you hesitated before we came together, concerned for me, concerned  for yourself, wishing I was 10 years older than I was.  Of course, without experience, I could jump right in, ready to savor every moment of us together, the romantic way.  And now that I am experiencing this loss, I understand better your initial hesitation.  But remember, you were willing to jump in with me, thank G-d.

Now Mendi is up and ready to prepare a real breakfast. Wish you were right here breaking the silence, enjoying his enthusiasm.   There maybe snow arriving on the day I’m supposed to land back home  and even when I’m sucked into a tsunami back home, I’m going to remember sitting right here at Edna’s table in the morning sunshine, feeling blessed at the treasures I’ve unearthed because of you.

Miss you here and everywhere,

Bonnie S.