My Littlest Angel, Indigo,
I’ve been making preserves to send to my girls, some canned tomatoes & pickles too. You know, I have to stay busy, even though the Lord knows I would be a mighty big somebody if I ever ate all that I sat up cooking. Meanwhile, I miss you all so much. There’s times in a mother’s life that are simply trying times. I’ve prayed & thought a whole lot ’bout my life & yours. Wouldn’t I look simple, keeping a house full of grown women, aching to be part of the world, from being part of the world, just so I wouldn’t be quite so lonely. That’s enough of that. You all have your ’mends to make with the world & so do I. That’s the Lord’s way.
I heard from Sassafrass that she hitch-hiked all the way across the country, when she told me she was gonna “drive-away.” That child is a mess. I’m up at night worrying ’bout her wanton ways. But she’s finally in Los Angeles, & settling down a bit, I hope. I keep looking for Cypress’ face to be on the news, when they talk about those youngsters who’ve lost their minds in California. I swear, I feel in my soul that she’s wandering around San Francisco all painted up with stars & peace symbols. I pray the TV cameras never find her. She might do a dance, then what would I say to all my neighbors. I got a painted dancing daughter in Haight-Ashbury? (smile) You are such a comfort to me. You’ve always been so serious & thoughtful. I want you to keep your head on your shoulders, & try not to be so hard on your sisters. They aren’t frivolous. They’re just a little wild.
If you don’t mind my saying, you’re entitled to more fun than you allow yourself. Aunt Haydee’s never been one for entertaining. If she gets a nap ’tween all those women out there having babies every time you turn your back, it’s a miracle. Now, that I’m thinking about it, you might enjoy having a baby of your own more than delivering everybody else’s. That does not mean for you to take up with one of those island boys either! I am concentrating on a nice young man here in Charleston. You really should have been a doctor. No sense in being a nurse with all the experience you’ve had by now.
The Lord will set you upon a path of decent pleasures, sure as He makes a way for honest toil. Saints be praised, Indigo, I’ve got to run. The strawberries are boiling over. I do love all of you so much. Rushing away, now.
Love,
Mama