Tue Mar 04, 2008 8:24 pm
Sirion’s alive and just wrote to us, thank Cha’reth! I’ve been so worried about him. He says he’s better. I desperately want him back with me, us. But his being with Day is enough. I know he’s safe there. He signed the letter “The White Arrow.” I shuddered reading it. But he finds in there some truth, and that is his right.
It’s hard to believe Mother’s been gone so long . . . I still haven’t had all of the girls over to go through her outfits. I bet she thought we’d have fun with them. Maybe that’s what we’re waiting for – to be able to have fun going through her things; reminiscing.
The house feels so big even with Rune and his giant muscles and wings taking up all that space. I think it will never be right sized without Mother here. But it’s filled with sweet memories. Our wedding reception, meetings around the big table, heated talks at the fireplace . . . and now our quiet moments too, sipping wine in Mother’s old bedroom . . . our bedroom, sitting before the fire there, talking, sharing, loving, and arguing.
When I look out the living room window onto her lovely garden, I remember one day in particular that Rune and I stopped over to visit. We’d been on one of our strolls, having come down from Apara Thorpe to pick apples, and didn’t realize it was Mother’s spring cleaning day. She was in the yard working on her garden, dirty and happy with a smudge of dark soil on her nose, her hair flying this way and that.
Of course she put us to work right away . . . me weeding her garden and Rune beating those rugs. He was so funny, showing off like he does, making us laugh. When I look out her window to the garden I can see her that day – green eyes sparkling with love for us – her children – and hear her laughter as Rune pounded the dust to the winds of Visi.
Glancing back through this journal of mine, there are so many memories recorded: The days Saffie first came to me, my wedding plans and love poems from Rune, the deaths of those I loved and cared about. Ha . . . that one long, long day tailoring with Simon hit me recently, when I went into the old Claire’s. The dressing room is still in the same place. I wonder if he looked down just for a moment and saw me checking on it. Maybe he chuckled and rolled his eyes, pitying anyone who tries to make me clothing. Probably not; I’m silly.
Cha’reth, reach out and hold Sally please.
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