Dear Rita,
Did you know that it was a woman who started the tradition of Thanksgiving as a set day and a national holiday? I didn’t. I learn so much, every day. It’s amazing what happens when you open yourself up to the world. It has so much to give. My cup runneth...as they say.
After I got your last letter I went back through my box (I keep all of your letters in this pretty tin candy box that my father gave me ages ago. It has vines and flowers all over it and it reminded me of you) and I looked back to last year’s All Souls letter. So much has changed since then. So many hopes and dreams shattered and built back up. We’re both changed now, you and I. For better or worse. But I couldn’t love you more. Or ache for your letters more, either!
How I feel so lonesome in this house with Robert home, I will never understand. I feel like a tree in the backyard, all bare now with no leaves. Waiting, waiting for the snow to bury me so I can sleep for a little while.
What an inappropriate time for all of these somber feelings. The war is going well, and the holidays are...well...here already. My goodness. Time flies and stays still in the same breath.
I’m sad that you are missing Roylene, but I’m certain you are so, so proud of her. She’ll be back, Rita. And you will have this time to bond with Little Sal. How lucky she is to have her baby being held in such safe arms.
What are your plans for Thanksgiving? I’m preparing for a proper meal this year. And I’ll have a full table. I have so much to be thankful for. Robbie’s improving health. Robert home alive. And my friendship with you.
I wish you could be here. Or I could be there. I want to cook next to you and be able to reach out my hands if you need one to hold. When you think of Sal, please try not to miss him too much. He’s alive in the eyes of your grandson.
I worry about you all alone. Will Charlie come? Mrs. K.? Have you had word from Toby? Or Roylene? I’d rather be there in your world than here in mine.
You know, now that I think of it, that’s exactly how I feel. Like a tree. Rooted in some ground I can’t quite figure out. And all these things go on around me all the time. I provide shade and comfort and oxygen. People admire me or simply take no notice. I’m neither here nor there.
But my branches? They reach for the sun. Oh, Rita, how my arms ache as if they were reaching and reaching.
I’m always searching Robert’s eyes for some sort of redemption. And I want to simply tell him that I’m more in love with him than I ever was. That I don’t think about Levi anymore. I mean, besides a fond memory of when we were all kids. But I’m afraid he won’t believe me. But I know you do. God, how I love my Robert. It’s as if I forgot who he was, or something. I can’t believe I ever thought I had a choice. He’s my love. My one and only love.
I was giving Robbie a bath the other evening. We were listening to music on the radio. I was singing and humming along. I suppose my mind must have wandered off because he asked me the most astounding thing. He asked, “Mama, why do I miss you and you are right here with me?”
I need to find my moment here inside this life with them. I need to leave all those other things behind and look to the future.
We all do. Right? Our whole country needs to do that. I suppose I’m in good company!
This year, after taking time to emulate you, dear Rita, my mother-in-law and myself have formed a tentative friendship. And I’m giving her the highest of all honors by sharing her sweet potatoes with you. Claire never cooked a day in her life, but her cook, Nancy, swears by these. We’ll see!
Sweet Potatoes
4 to 6 sweet potatoes
⅔ cup dark corn or maple syrup
1 orange, sliced
½ teaspoon grated orange rind
2 tablespoons butter or margarine
⅓ cup chopped nut meats
¼ teaspoon salt (to bring out the sweetness!)
Peel sweet potatoes; then slice into a buttered casserole, arranging them in layers with orange slices and chopped nut meats. Dot each layer with butter and season with salt and pepper. Pour syrup over them. Bake in moderate oven for 1 hour. A little water or orange juice may be added if needed. Serves 4 to 6.
Love,
Glory