Dear Carl by Anna Friend

Carl’s mom writes him letters occasionally. Carl is her only child. Carl’s father died when he was in college. Living in the Arizona, Carl calls his Mom in the Carolinas as often as he can on Sundays. Carl’s mom is in her 80s. She lives in a contemporary world with old-fashioned values.

DEAR CARL

Dear Carl,

We are in the thick of the summer in the Carolinas. I am often chilled with the air conditioner, but now I let the silly thing run around the clock at 72 degrees. I was embarrassed and yet; I laugh now. A couple weeks back, the maintenance kid came to change my air filter. He had beads of sweat dotting his beet-red face when he left. I am not sure if he was mad or just too hot. I had the AC set at 78. I felt bad because I had him check under my bathroom sink for a leak, loosen a jar for me, and move my recliner away from the window. The poor boy will dread coming next month.

With this heat, I find myself staying in the house viewing life from my window. However, Shirley has gained energy back. She is not allowing her life to pass by, so she goes on a weekly outing or two. She often drags me out of my recliner, and we pop in her new car for a ride. I am happy to see her alive and well. She always tinted her hair red but now, son, her wig is flaming copper-red. Her lipstick is brighter than ever, and her smile even more so. I battle guilt that I am a healthier woman in her 80s and my dear young friend has suffered much in her early 70s.

Today fully masked, rubbed down with sanitizer, and eyes behind our glasses, Shirley and I bought student planners from the dollar only store. She insisted that we start being mindful of our days. We are to write something we are grateful for or note something good we do each day. I have few appointments. I have no social engagements, as our community is at high risk for this pandemic. I had thought to myself that I will only be able to fill mine with brushed the cat, watered the flowers, read my Bible, picked some herbs from my mini garden, or checked the mail. I couldn’t imagine what good things I could write. My life is so simple. Then it hit me, son, I am able! I am grateful for these simple things. I can speak, write, and think somewhat clearly. If I accomplish a crossword puzzle, my mind is better for it. I will write it down. When I call to check on my neighbors or talk to Pastor Larry, I will write it down. When I pray for my family, I will be grateful and write it down. Son, it is important that we use our time wisely. It is important that we are grateful for the small things. At my age, I take nothing for granted. I am thankful I can laugh, even at that poor boy’s expense!

Getting old is not fun because limitations are imposed on us. Remember, I cannot drive. Yes, still sore about no license, but I love you. However, getting old has many benefits like slowing down. Slowing down to appreciate time and its value. Okay, this sounds like a lecture. I hope you know that God has numbered our days. Son use them wisely. Remember to call your mom often. Sorry had to put that in.

Say hello to Donna. I am sure she has your house feeling like a freezer there in Arizona. She loves being comfortable. I need to get ready for my helper, Sarah, to pick me up. We are going to the grocery store. She had a mask made for me. It has cats on it. I prefer the plain blue ones, but I wear it for her. I look ridiculous, but I guess I am safer with it on. The mayonnaise is on sale. I want potato salad. It’s impossible for me to make a small one, so I will have to share some. I think I will get some peaches too. I hope I remember how to make a pie. More things to be grateful for - grocery stores and food. I hope you are eating well. Oh, and thank you, son, for sending postage stamps. Them things cost a lot these days.

Love, Mom