Brenda
On the docks, with the first ice cream cones of summer, you with three scoops
melting faster that you could keep up, vanilla ice cream to your elbows,
Robin laughing so hard she dropped hers into her lap...You giving Ruby awful
grief over arasin in your oatmeal which you insisted was a fly, and finally
giving in, "Okay. Okay, Ruby; it's a rasin. But it's a rasin with six legs."
Customers gagging and signalling for checks...When the baseball strike was
over, walking down the street in front of the Port Charles Hotel, you and
Sonny singing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" in two diferent keys, really the
most lame and hideous and loud presentaion of that song I've ever heard, and
the doorman asking me to move you along...Small events Stone, brief, funny,
to whom are they important now? To me. Who will remember them and all the others
like them? I will. Ordinary moments of shared joy. You've taught me to take
none of the for granted, and I won't, not ever again. How can I thank you for
giving me that?
Love,
Brenda