Last week I sent Bluejay this postcard from Palm Springs, Ca. I like to plan fun little things to cope with the long two week absence. I kept asking Bluejay if he had checked the mail for something fun from me, and day after day passed without it's arrival. I returned home
early EARLY yesterday morning after a red-eye flight from Los Angeles. That afternoon, Bluejay got the mail. There was a plain white envelope with a return address that read "personal message". Written on the front were the swirly, curly letters that are easily identified as what I like to call "Grandmother cursive". My Grandma has the most beautiful penmanship. I look forward to Christmas and Birthday cards from her so I can read the swoop and swirl of each carefully penned word. This card, however, was not in my Grandma's writing. As Bluejay opened the envelope addressed to him, the postcard I had written fell into his hands along with a handwritten note in "Grandmother cursive" on a lilac floral piece of paper. The note read:
I found this card in my mail of yesterday on today. Obviously an accident of our pony express post office! So I'm sending it to you so she doesn't get in trouble with you. I hope you don't mind my reading it - I was a girlfriend too - I'm 84. My house is far from you.
Take care, IreneI don't know who Irene is, but she made our day. What was once a simple post card to my love from Palm Springs, is now an adorable memory from a sweet old lady. Both the post card and Irene's note are now on our fridge behind a red "you are loved" magnet to remind me that even after a couple years of marriage, in my heart I am still, and will always be Bluejay's girlfriend!