jmhenderson
To
Journal; January 8th, 1977
I ran into a couple of men four days ago. Literally!
They’re cops, and they were chasing some bad guy down the street ahead of me as I came home from work. I heard the sirens, but I guess I had the radio up too loud, and didn’t realize they were so close. (Although I will NOT be admitting that in traffic court!) Anyway, long story short, this unmarked cop car comes flying out from the alley beside me and crashed into the side of my poor Chevelle. Even knocked me out a little while. But I’d almost say it was worth it. When I opened my eyes, these two pairs of gorgeous blue eyes were looking down at me, all filled with concern. They were asking if I was okay, telling me not to move. Their concern was touching.
They’re detectives, but not like any I had ever seen before. Quite different from the ones you see on TV.
The blonde one, named Ken, was apologizing all over the place for hitting me, even though I’m sure the court is going to say the accident was my fault. I told him not to worry, that I was fine, but I must’ve fallen unconscious again, because the next thing I knew, I was in the hospital. They were still with me there, too. The doctor said I had a concussion and two fractured ribs and some minor contusions. The only thing that I thinking was what a mess I must look! I kept falling asleep and waking up, and that whole evening those two were right there with me. I couldn’t believe it.
The other
one, his name is David, was so sweet.
He was attending to me better than the nurses; asking me too often if
there was anything I needed. (If only
he knew!) He’s got the most gorgeous
curly brown hair, and brightest blue eyes that had my heart fluttering every
time he looked at me.
The doctor
made me stay in the hospital for a few days, and they were there all night with
me the first night; then they came in at different times the whole time I was
there afterwards. I kept telling them they
didn’t need to do that, but they kept coming anyway. (I was secretly glad of that, too!)
Their
concern for me was touching. I was sure
it was out of feeling guilty for hitting me and totaling my car. But the better I have come to know them, the
less I am so sure of that.
When the
doctor finally said I could leave yesterday, they were there to take me
home. I never told them I didn’t have
anyone around like family and all; just moving to California two months ago,
but they found out somehow. (Guess that
must be why they’re detectives.)
Anyway, I
didn’t realize how sore I was and how much pain I would have until I got up and
started moving around. But they
knew. They not only took me home, but
got groceries for my apartment and got my prescriptions filled for me and even
called the school, letting them know it would be a couple of weeks before I
could return to work. (They had called
there when I was first admitted, too.)
So there
we all were, me, Ken, and David; sitting in my living room. They were the first guests I’d had in the
apartment since I’d moved in. I felt
bad that I wasn’t more ‘entertaining’, but they were pretty good at
entertaining themselves! What a couple
of goof-balls they are. (You can tell
they are really the best of
friends.)
When my
medicine started kicking in, I somehow ended up in my bed. (I suspect one of them carried me in
there.) Perfect gentlemen and very
sweet to look after me so well. When I
woke up, I even found my teddy bear sitting beside me. (Now how sweet is that?)
This
morning, I insisted they leave. I knew
they had lives of their own and their girlfriends must certainly be upset from
them being here with me instead of with them, and I told them so. But they both admitted that their
lifestyles, because of their career choice no doubt, had made their social
lives a bit scarce lately.
That’s
when we really started becoming friends.
We talked about ourselves and opened up to each other. Told a few secrets. We sat around playing cards and discussed
things that I wouldn’t tell my best friend, but yet felt comfortable enough
with them to discuss. And they told me
many things about themselves; from their work and all the craziness they have to
deal with on a regular basis, to their love lives, strained on any given day;
somewhat stagnant at the moment.
When the
pain from laughing at their petty pickings on each other made my chest hurt and
head throb, I ended up having to take the pain medication, which is very quick
and effective, and also puts me to sleep very easily. I didn’t want to. They
were worried and I didn’t want them to be.
I had avoided taking the medicine long past the time I was supposed
to. I wanted them to see I was okay and
stop feeling guilty about me and go on with their lives. Instead I had them for ‘roomies’ another
night; they were too worried to leave me and I was suddenly too tired to argue.
So that’s
why it’s been five days since I last wrote in this journal.
To
Journal; January 10th, 1977
Ken had a
date with a young lady this evening, and David came by alone. He said he’d told Ken that he wouldn’t come
over, trying to give me time to heal and enjoy some peace and quiet. But he just wanted to come over and make
sure I was alright. He told me he’d
leave if I wanted him to, but I didn’t want that.
We sat and
watched TV and ate way too much pizza.
Sometimes we didn’t speak to each other for twenty minutes at a time;
then there were times when we talked on and on, like we’d never be able to
stop. He’s such good company. I could’ve sworn he was staring at me a
couple of times. Probably wondering if
I was really okay. (He does want to
‘nurse’ me a lot, not even letting me wash the few dishes that sat in the
sink.)
He’s out
there on the couch sleeping as I write this.
He looked so comfortable and relaxed that I didn’t have the heart to
wake him. (He must’ve been really
tired. He looked at me for a moment and
smiled when I put the pillow under his head, and his eyes stayed closed when I
put the blanket on him; a lopsided grin staying on his sweet face.)
To
Journal; January 13th, 1977
Today I
went almost the whole day until I needed to take something for the pain. It was like the cold rain that came also
brought with it a stiffness to my chest, and my head was throbbing. I took it around 5pm, and dern if David and
Ken didn’t come by after work, just wanting to check on me. They caught me at kind of a bad time. I had taken a shower, taken my medication,
and then tried taking a nap. I must’ve
looked a site when they arrived, because when I opened the door, the smiles on
their faces dropped suddenly when they looked at me. They brought food and sodas and I let them in, sat down, then
promptly fell asleep in the chair. I
woke up around 11pm. They’re still
here, asleep on the couch and love seat in the living room.
To
Journal; January 15th, 1977
David and
I are forming some kind of connection.
I think. Today I tried going
back to work. I’ve been missing it, and
getting pretty bored around this apartment.
It didn’t work out as well as I thought it would. I was too weak to handle chasing the
children around for some reason, and tired after only being there an hour. Who suddenly pops out of no where to take me
home? Dave. Seems he knows me better than I thought.
When he
called there to tell them I wouldn’t be in for two weeks, he also gave them his
phone numbers at work and home. He told
them to call if I tried going in and didn’t seem well enough to do my job. And they did. A conspiracy? Perhaps. But he made me come home. I was so angry. I wouldn’t speak to him the whole drive home. He made several attempts to start conversations. I just looked out the window. I was furious and tired and hurting. When we got to my apartment building, he cut
off the car and just sat there. Looking
at me. I could feel tears welling in my
eyes. Well, I didn’t want him to see
that, so when the tears started coming, I ran upstairs to my apartment as fast
as my body would let me. I got inside
and just went in my room and let it out.
I’m sure now that it was from not being able to do what I wanted to;
having to admit that I couldn’t handle getting back into my regular routine
yet.
Well, he
followed me up into my apartment. He
sat with me. He held me. He talked to me in that calming tone of his,
never once letting go. I remember the
calm that took me over as he gently rocked me in his arms, rubbing my back,
letting me cry and get it out. I barely
remember falling asleep. When I woke
up, he was lying there beside me, his arm still around me. It felt so good.
This has
got to be more than pity. It has to be
more than guilt over me getting hit by the car he rode in with his
partner. I hope it is, anyway, because
I can feel myself falling for him. When
he looks at me I just want to melt in a puddle. I feel a wanting for him that’s more than I should admit to. Where will this lead, if anywhere?
To
Journal; January 18th, 1977
Hutch came
over today. His car is all fixed,
barely showing the dents that it got from hitting my car. David teased him about getting it fixed
almost a week ago, telling him he didn’t need it worked on it since it looks so
bad to begin with. They are so cute,
having petty little ‘mock’ arguments back and forth with each other; teasing
one another about everything from the cars they drive to the food they eat.
Anyway,
Hutch came by, just to check on me to be sure I was alright. David is catching up paperwork that got
behind while they were off taking care of me.
(I later found out that Dave asked Ken to come by and make sure I was
okay.)
I had to
do it. I asked him about David. I wanted to know if I was getting some sort
of syndrome, feeling like he might be liking me when all he was really
concerned about was my getting better and nothing more. Sort of like those doctor/patient
relationships where the patient falls for the doctor because the doctor makes
them better. I had to know, and I knew
his best friend would know the answers, because he knew everything there was to
know about David … probably more than David did himself. I remember Ken smiling at me.
He told me
that he knows that David likes me.
Alot! (I feel like a teenager in
school again!) He told me that Dave is
talking about me all the time, and he’s sure he’s falling for me. (I am grinning!)
To
Journal; January 20th, 1977
David
asked me out to dinner.
He called
me this afternoon, just asking me out of the clear blue. I got myself ready an hour ago, not wanting
to keep him waiting for me. I have my
favorite dark red corduroy jumper with a black turtleneck on. I fussed almost an hour and a half with my
hair, and have my make up on; hoping I’m going to impress him. He’s never seen me dressed and all made up
before. I hope I won’t disappoint him.
To
Journal; January 21st, 1977
Wow. Wow.
Wow.
I was hoping
to impress David. But boy, did he ever
impress me! First of all, he arrived
with flowers … roses. Big, beautiful,
red roses that smelled divine. He was
dressed in a brown corduroy jacket with blue jeans and a white shirt. He had a tie on as well, and a man in a tie
always does something to me. (This man
was doing more than just ‘something’!)
When I
opened my apartment door, he looked at me hard. First his mouth dropped open a little, then a huge smile spread
across his face, making me feel like the effort I had taken was giving me the
effect I wanted, and was definitely worth it.
He smelled
so good, wearing a light, almost musk cologne that smelled heavenly when he
leaned in to kiss me on the cheek as he handed me the roses. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t a lady. I wanted to grab him and pull him inside and
lock the doors then and there.
We went to
a very nice Italian restaurant just outside of town. The setting was very romantic, right down to the
candlelight.
He told me I was beautiful. Not cute.
(I always despised being called ‘cute’.
Puppies are ‘cute’.)
He held my
hand a lot as we talked. And boy, did
we talk. We talked seriously that
evening. He talked about some of the
women in his life before now; before me.
I wonder how he can smile, dealing with all that pain inside him.
I wonder
if he told me about them to try and warn me.
Like he wanted me to know that being with him was like a time bomb. Well I don’t believe it. Not for a minute. I hope he wasn’t trying to scare me away from him, because it
didn’t work. Just because he’s had a
run of bad luck, or bad timing, or whatever it was, doesn’t mean that I fit
into that grouping.
When he
took me home, I let him come upstairs with me to my apartment. We talked a couple more hours still, just
about “stuff”; nothing in particular other than Ken, whose name came up so much
that I think I know him almost as much as I know David.
Out of the
clear blue, while we sat at my kitchen table, he kissed me. Oh, it was wonderful! I feel my heart beating faster again, just
thinking about it. His lips are so soft
and his touch was so gentle that it took every ounce of strength I had not to
ask him to stay. (But I wanted to.) And if he had asked to stay, instead of
being the gentleman that he was, I know I would not have been able to deny him.
To
Journal: January 22nd, 1977
Maybe I
pushed myself too much the day before, but I really felt bad today. Almost like I had caught something. David and Ken came by to take me to the
doctor, as today was the day I was
supposed to be released to go back to work.
I must’ve looked awful, because Ken wanted to take me to the hospital
instead. I know I felt bad. David was so worried. It bothered me, seeing him so upset over me
like that.
The doctor
said I couldn’t go back to work just yet after all. He says I have a bug; some virus, and it’s caused me to have a
little fever, and he wont release me until it’s run its’ course.
I miss the
kids. I want to go back! They’ve sent me hand made cards and I know
they miss me, too. Especially
Sally. She must’ve sent me five cards
already this week.
Anyway,
the doctor said I could come back and see him in four days, and maybe I could be released back to work
then. I got a little upset, but I think
I did a very good job of keeping it to myself.
When Dave
and Ken took me home, I found the latest batch of cards from school in my mail
box. I couldn’t stop myself from
crying. To appease me, they promised me they’d go over and check on the
children for me tomorrow. I called the
school; they said it was okay.
To
Journal; January 23rd, 1977
I felt so
good this morning that I called the doctors’ office and made him give me an
appointment. I rode the bus in, and he
could see the difference in me, and , when he examined me, said that I could
indeed go back to work Monday after all.
(Hurray!)
When I got
back home, I stopped by Bellamers’ Market; the local store that’s just around
the corner from my place, and picked up a whole bunch of groceries. I was there for almost an hour because they
had missed seeing me in there and were talking to me. I usually go every evening to pick up a paper and some milk, and
I really enjoy the night time walk.
It’s become a routine for me to go there. And it was really nice to be missed.
But I was
on a mission! I bought a few steaks and
baking potatoes and the makings for a salad.
I knew Dave and Ken would be coming by to tell me how their ‘day at
school’ went. And they did!
They came
over and I had dinner almost ready. I
had showered and even put on a little make-up and spent the whole evening
proving to them that I was really better. They both were skeptical; saying a
woman can put on make-up and hide all sorts of things. They are so funny! (Although I believe they were halfway serious when they said
that.)
Anyway, we
all enjoyed a good meal and they told me all about playing basketball with ‘my
kids’, (as Dave calls them). The school
was so impressed at the way the children responded to them that they will be
going by there on a semi-regular basis from now on. Ken says they had so much fun together because David is just an
over-grown kid himself. I agreed,
telling him it was a very endearing quality!
(I couldn’t tell if he was going to hit Ken for his remark, or blush at
mine!)
We had a
great evening together. They are my
‘bestest buddies’ Dave is my best
friend.
To
Journal; January 25th, 1977
I hate to
see this weekend end. It has to be the
best weekend of my entire life.
Dave and I
have been inseparable the entire time!
He is the most romantic man I have ever known. He took me car shopping Saturday, but we didn’t find too much,
even though we had a wonderful time looking around. The best part was that he held my hand the whole time. We talked non-stop throughout the day.
That night
we met with Hutch and his girlfriend, Christine, meeting at Huggys’, (what a
fun place he has, and what a good friend he is to them!) and we sat around,
drinking beer and talking and just having fun.
Dave and I
had our first slow dance together. We
stared into each others’ eyes and never spoke a word. He held me close to him.
I could tell he didn’t want the evening to end. Well, neither did I.
So we made
sure it didn’t .
We said
our good-byes to everyone at Huggys’ and went back to his place. He is very romantic. There were candles all around, and soft
music that we danced to in his kitchen, through his living room, and finally
into his bedroom. His kiss was so gentle
and endearing. His touch sent shivers
of pleasure throughout my body. And his
eyes spoke to me; he never needed to actually say a word. He was so sweet, and gentle, and caring, and
more than I ever expected from a lover.
(I never knew it could be so wonderful.)
I was
scared, but couldn’t stop myself from telling him that I loved him. Most men are afraid of those three little
words. Not David. Instead, he smiled so brightly at me and
kissed me so intensely; telling me that he loved me too, then we made love over
and over again.
This
morning I awoke to breakfast in bed. (A
first for me, unless I count the times, when I was a child, that my Mom would
bring me breakfast in bed when I got sick!)
There is nothing better than waking up to the smell of breakfast and
having those blue eyes smiling down on you!!!
We fed each other, then made love again. Like I said; the most romantic man in the world. God I love him. I spent the whole day showing him just how much.
When he
took me home, he stopped on the way and bought me more roses. I can’t get over how wonderful he is, and
don’t ever want to.
The only
good thing about seeing this weekend coming to an end is finally being able to
go back to work in the morning and being with all the children again. I sure have missed them terribly. I plan to show them how much by having a
little party to get us all reacquainted.
I hope they will be pleased.
They are special children, but more so, they are very special to me.
To
Journal; January 27th, 1977
It’s been
two days since I last put an entry in this journal. A lot has happened.
When I got
back to work Monday morning, the children, along with Dave, Ken, their friend
Huggy, and all the upper staff of the school were waiting for me, throwing me a
surprise ‘Welcome Back’ party! It was
so wonderful. I cried a lot. I couldn’t help it: they made me feel so
loved.
After I
got done with my day of fun at work, mingling with the children and catching up
to speed on their work while I was gone, I was picked up by my two heroes, who
had some great news for me. It seems
that I won’t be going to court over the car wreck after all! All pending charges against me for “failing
to adhere to the sirens of approaching emergency vehicles” have been
dropped. I don’t know how they did it,
but I was certainly glad they did! (I
guess it is true … it’s good to have a friend or two on the force!)
The next
day, today, my class and I went on a field trip, visiting police headquarters
down at the Metro Division. The
children had a wonderful time! I was
able to meet all of Dave and Kens’ coworkers.
Their captain is very nice.
(They fuss about him now and then, but when I listen to them, it sounds
more like sons fussing about their Dad.
Now I know why. I watched the
captain as he watched Dave and Ken interacting with my field trip class. He looks like a proud father!) Captain Dobey was wonderful with the
children. All the people who work there
were very kind and patient with my special kids.
When I got
home tonight, I knew I would not be seeing David and Ken because they were
working late on a very important case, but it’s okay. I’m so tired from ALL the activities since this past weekend that
I’m going to bed early. I’ve already
been to the store and had a warm bath and it’s time. Goodnight, Journal!
To
Journal; January 30th, 1977
This has
been quite a week for me. I am grateful
the weekend is here now. Dave and Ken
are working on a big case this weekend, so I may not see them at all, but
that’s okay, as long as one of them calls me and lets me know they’re
okay. They are so good to me, and I
find myself worrying about them a lot.
But I am very grateful in the knowledge that they have each other to
rely on, and that in itself is comforting.
To
Journal; January 31st, 1977
Dave and
Ken came by this evening, just getting done with a very important case;
“wrapping it up”, as they said. They
called first to see if I was going to be awake. (Making me laugh since it was only 7:30pm!) They came over, bringing a couple of pizzas
and some beer and sodas.
When I saw
that they had driven in separate cars, I became suspicious with them,
‘interrogating’ my two friends, enjoying teasing them. They were happily stuttering with
excuses. (I knew David was up to
something, and was secretly very happy about it!)
After we
had eaten and were sitting around like bums at the kitchen table, I accused them of trying to fatten me up: of
course they both denied it. Then David
decided he would ‘frisk’ me when I got up to do the dishes, checking to see if
I had actually gained any weight since this friendship had begun. Ken took this as his cue to leave, and said
his good-byes as David had me in the floor, tickling me ruthlessly! Once Ken had left, Dave turned from menacing
to loving, and our night was spent in each others’ arms; more than I could’ve
hoped for.
Another
weekend to smile about.
This week was a long
one. That’s why I haven’t written much
in this journal. Lots of testing at
school, (the poor children!), and grading and evaluating, (poor me!), and
hardly any time spent with my best friend. (Woe is me!)
Dave and
Ken have been working on a string of robberies going on in local stores, which
has kept them pretty busy. I don’t mind
though, as long as they keep each other safe from harm. I am so thankful that they have each other
to depend on. They are a wonderful team.
Anyway, I
did get to see David yesterday evening, and it was a most pleasant
surprise! I was sitting at my desk
here, doing some paperwork on the childrens’ progress, and there was this knock
on my door. I asked who it was, and a
strange voice said “Delivery, ma’am!”.
I looked through the peep hole and saw nothing but red roses and a broad
smile that could only be his!
I opened
the door, falling into him and the roses as I kissed him. He was trying to pretend he was blushing,
telling me that I shouldn’t be so forward with him, since he was only a ‘shy
delivery boy’. I grabbed him and pulled
him inside the apartment, holding him tightly.
I whispered in his ear, telling him I would be gentle, and for him not
to worry, that my boyfriend would never find out. We laughed and he attacked me, both of us landing on the
sofa. Need I say more???
To
Journal; February 7th, 1977
We spent
this weekend as one big happy group; Ken and Christine, Dave and me. It was great. Saturday we went to the park, getting on all the rides. (My favorite is the giant slide.) We went to the movies that evening, and
acted like teenagers, necking in the back row.
Sunday we
went to the Putt-Putt golf course, and I have discovered that David is very
competitive when it comes to Ken, in a fun kind of way. It was so entertaining, watching them
playing and goofing around! Christine
and I just laughed and laughed at them.
Then went
over to Daves’, after stopping off at Huggys’ to get some food to bring back
with us, and played Monopoly. It’s becoming
one of our favorite things to do. Poor
Dave; he just can’t win. But it’s so
much fun watching him try!
Back to
work tomorrow for all of us. But it’s
okay, this weekend was well worth any paperwork I am now behind on from
neglect.
To
Journal; February 9th, 1977
Ken and
Dave came by after school today to play a little basketball with the kids. The boys did most of the playing, and we
girls were the cheering squad. It was
such fun. I haven’t seen some of the
children laughing like that in a long time.
This is going to be a weekly event now, as often as Dave and Kens’
schedules will permit. The children
really enjoy their company; they don’t treat them differently like many others
do. It is really something to watch … these
two grown men transformed into children when they play. I love them both so much; the best friends a
girl could ever have.
To
Journal; February 10th, 1977
David has
promised me a special surprise this Saturday.
He wont give me any hints, either, which is driving me nuts! He said it’s just going to be me and him and
that’s all he’s going to tell me on the matter. I tried using my best pout:
it didn’t work. That devilish
grin that appears on his face each time he brings it up is going to make me
crazy! I hope this weekend will hurry
up and get here, but quick. The
suspense is killing me!
Dave and
Ken came by my place this evening, and when the opportunity came, I innocently
asked Ken if he knew what David was up to this weekend. All he did was smile at me, telling me he
had already been sworn to secrecy.
(Darn it!)
To
Journal; February 11th, 1977
Today a
dozen red roses were delivered to the school, courtesy of Dave. I love that man. The card read, “With all my love, see you first thing Saturday
morning.” (I may lose my mind before
then, as the anticipation is definitely going to make me insane.)
He came by
the apartment this evening after work, even though it was late, just having to
tease me just a little bit more before the weekend arrived. He also had to tease me about my flannel
pajamas, which are very comfortable, but also very worn from being my
favorites. That was okay though,
because I explained that I didn’t HAVE to wear them, and told him I probably
wouldn’t wear ANYTHING when I went to bed.
(Two can play that teasing game!).
He gave me his best puppy-dog eyes and pouted as I tried to send him out
the door. But his kisses melted me, and
it wasn’t long before I gave into him.
Hardly a sacrifice. (I think I
still won this one.)
To
Journal; February 18th, 1977
On
February 12th, I went to the corner store like I always do during
the evening, and the store was robbed
while I was there. It was
frightening. Two men came in and one of
them shot me. Out of the clear
blue.
I don’t
know what I’ve done to deserve this. I
have a bullet lodged in my head, just above my left eye. The doctors say they can’t remove it or I
will simply die. In fact, they have
told me I will die regardless; it’s only a matter of time.
I was
given a choice. Either stay in bed and
maybe, just maybe, live a year or so if I remain immobile; or get up, leave the
hospital, and try to live a somewhat normal, if not protected life, where I
could live anywhere from three weeks to a year. They really just don’t know.
David
wanted to help me decide, but I couldn’t let him be involved in that. Either way, I am going to die. I don’t want him to carry the burden of
helping me to make such a decision, for surely he will blame himself no matter
how long or short my life becomes.
I feel so
alone, so helpless. I’ve tried not to
act like anything is different. But the
children are already asking why I am gone again.
David is being so gentle and careful about
everything that I feel like an egg about to crack open at any moment.
Ken just
looks at me, and his eyes are so sad, they bring tears to my own.
What did I
ever do to deserve this? What did they
ever do to deserve having to deal with me in this predicament?
February
19th, 1977
Dave took
me over to Kens’ place, where we met up with Christine and played Monopoly and
had a somewhat good time. Things are
strained. They’re afraid to speak their
minds around me. Scared to say anything
that concerns the future, because they don’t know if I’ll be a part of it. They don’t seem to realize that I am just as
scared to talk about it too. I’m scared
to leave them; scared of what comes next.
I’m also
tired. I don’t want them to see how
tired I am of being scared. I’m tired
of worrying, and tired of this damned time bomb that floats around in my brain,
waiting at any given moment of its’ choice to take me away from this world that
I am so very fond of.
I am also
angry. So damned angry that I actually
started throwing and breaking things in my apartment; things that used to have
so much meaning to me, but now just don’t seem to matter. I cleaned it up before David came by. If he noticed that things were missing, he
didn’t say so.
I hate
that my life has been taken away from me!
Yes, I am still alive right now, but for how long? It’s only a matter of time before that is
taken from me and I have absolutely no say-so about it.
I wanted
to marry David; have three children, maybe more, and live happily ever
after. Suddenly, this is no longer a
reality for me. Not for him,
either. I know it is killing him
inside. I know he loves me, too. Oh God, how I wish I could take his pain
away.
To
Journal; February 20th, 1977
This will
be my last entry. I feel deep down
inside that my time is drawing near, and I must get my affairs in order.
I am no
longer in a self-pity mode, but more into planning for things that are meant to
be. I have made my own funeral
arrangements. I used my savings and
bought my burial plot. They rest of my
savings will be donated to the school after I am gone. I have left a couple of items for David and
Ken, which are wrapped and ready to give to them when they pick me up this
afternoon; along with specific instructions.
This
afternoon we are going to the school for a game of basketball so the children
wont feel neglected. (I know they must
be feeling that way by now, and I hate that there is nothing I can do to make
it better. But I am thankful in the
knowledge that Dave and Ken will help them.)
As I said,
this will be the last entry of this journal.
I am wrapping it up and taking it to school; putting it in the very
capable hands of Mrs. McGeorge, the schools’ principal. She has already agreed to give it to David
after I have passed, one month to the day.
So he will know how wonderful my life has become because of him. So he can know it is time to move on with
his life. And so that he can know how
much I truly loved him.
It’s time
for me to go.
I’m
afraid. But I’m not.
David … I’ll always be there for you; by your side. I’ll love you always. Terry.