My mom does not write letters, so that was the first clue that something was off, then there was the handwriting which definitely wasn't my mother's. Noticing that it wasn't her handwriting reminded me that when we see the handwriting of those we care for it is a sign of their evident presence, a sense of knowing someone as if their handwriting was a handshake or a hug, it is that familiar and comforting. Anyway, that letter was not from my mother, but a very funny joke from my two nieces, Marie and Molly. They sent letters with the same humor to my son and their uncle my brother Marty. Each letter is a spin-off of each of our relationships with our mother. Molly and Marie have done such a good job with these letters that I think the two of them should write a book of letters from my mom.
They even added flowers from my mom's garden!
My brother Marty's letter jokes about not making his favorite lemon pie anymore.
As if these letters aren't sweetly fun in their own right when I read my out loud to Yann was puzzled, as he thought
my mom had written it. He questioned it, "You mom is going to learn a new language?"
It took some explaining for him to understand that it was a joke from my nieces.
"Why," he asked, "Are you sure it is not real?"
I think I will get a ride out of this one for some time.
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