Dear Anna, Everything is Going to Be OK

Here is how I know this;….OkI don’t actually know, but I really really believe everything is going to be ok for us. Life is just hard sometimes,  but not all the time.  Laying in my bed, in my new room, I can hear my host mom laughing with her real daughter. I kind of wonder what they are laughing about,  but mostly I just enjoy listening to the sound of it. The mom loves the daughter . They are happy.  Something is right in the world.  So I can sleep.  As long as they are ok today, I know there is hope for me tomorrow.

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This gliding man is also comforting I think

I’m glad you go on lots of walks. I hope sometimes you steal some carrot tops from the community garden by your house, just so you have plenty of energy for all of your walking.

Just so you know, you are invited to live with me for almost half a month starting 2 weeks from now, and I’m really really excited about it.
So much Mexican food awaits us. And we will make pie everyday.

I love you more than I love buying toiletries.

Your Bridge

Dear Bridget, I’m in a river that flows off of a cliff and I’m just holding on to the branch of a tree on the banks

Dear Bridget,
I’ve been taking a lot of walks lately. I took a walk with my friend who matches a stop sign:

  
I took a walk where I ended up sitting on a road that isn’t actually a road and looking at this in love couple sitting under a tree with their obedient dog at sunset like a painting:

  
And then as a continuation of my sunset walk-and-sit, it rained, so we ran, and then I ended up laying in the middle of the road that actually is a road like a steamy smudge. 

  
I feel empty, full, I feel kind of like a piece of paper or a sponge, and I just ate a carrot that tasted like a cigarette. 

Please eat a piece of pie in my honor soon because my life is crumbling like a cookie and I need to know that there are people still enjoying rhubarb and flaky crust in the world. I’m thinking if we ever open a diner we can serve a turkey sandwich with strawberry rhubarb jam and we can call it the “turkey Barbara” after your mom and on account of the “barb” part in rhubarb. 

I guess everyone feels like they live in a washing machine at this time of year. Spinning and tossing and swirling. 

A lady said to me today that you can wash leeks in the dishwasher rather than hand-washing them. She said it so matter-of-factly but I told her it doesn’t make any sense and that it would take way too long. She said that truth be told, she doesn’t own a dishwasher so she doesn’t really know, but it seems about right. I also doubt that she’s ever eaten a leek. 

Spend some extra time in the California sand for me when you get a chance. I’d appreciate it. 

Love always, 

Anna

Dear Anna, I’m Driving

Reading your letter made me very sad to be leaving you again.  I loved being in Georgia this year more than I loved most of my others, which makes leaving it much more of a feat than the last time. It was special to live in the city with you, even if we never really bothered going out in it together. We are small town girls at heart anyhow. Now back to the west I must go!  Don’t worry, I am avoiding New Mexico all together. 
Soon I will be in the Bay again.  I will miss you and your porch, the way you are both attached to your yellow house. I will miss this road I walked down at about 11 once a week. 

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On the street where you live

I will miss pulling my favorite pjs out of your third drawer down on the left. I will miss everything.
Turn. Turn. Turn. Turn.
I am engaged to an engineer, you know. I was sitting next to him tonight. I closed my eyes for a second and all I could see was a beautiful blue sky with those perfect clouds, the ones that are somehow puffy and flat all at once. I leaned in close to my engineer and whispered, “You are the sky”. Engineers don’t always understand what you mean when you tell them they are the sky, but I hope mine did. It’s vital that he knows.

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Kansas forever

I’m on the open road with him now. I’m happy, but a little sad because, you know. Leavin it all.
But at least this time I will be taking the sky with me. 
Come see me in July, ok? I have a bigger bed now, but we can just both sleep on the air mattress for old times sake.

I love you more than I love trying on all the lingerie.

Your Bridget

Dear Bridget, Some Squirrels Are Brave and Some Squirrels Are Not

Hello Bridget

Tonight we are having a lingerie shower for you at my house. Hopefully we’ll be drinking some lavender flavored adult beverages and talking about things that we can plant in our garden while eating hearty snacks for dinner. We also may have italian wedding cake martinis because we are true women. I’m not sure who came up with the idea of lingerie showers as a thing that people should do, but I’m not mad about it. To me, every wedding shower is a lingerie shower. Sorry that I haven’t bought you any kitchen utensils or bathroom towels yet.

(DISCLAIMER: We had that party last night. I wrote that yesterday. And those martinis were weird but awesome.)

I’ve noticed that the squirrels in some towns don’t run away when you get near them. I find this disconcerting. They’re practically tame, and I don’t know what to do about that. Don’t make eye contact with me, squirrel. The squirrels in my yard growing up wouldn’t allow a human presence within a 20 foot radius of themselves, but in this town the squirrels are all “you do you with your tennis shoes and stuff, I’ll be here in the middle of the sidewalk if you don’t mind… there are some acorns in the cracks of the pavement”. I don’t know what it all means.

I found some chickens in a lot down the street. And my neighbor told me that he found a rattlesnake in his fish pond. There’s some wilderness here, even if the squirrels have lost their damn minds.

I guess summer just started. You came back here when summer ended last year and now you’re leaving again when summer starts. Somewhere someone’s playing some old old jazz music on their back porch in my neighborhood and you just left my porch for the last time for good. It won’t be the same without you slumber partying once a week, but all things go.

I think I feel like this song right now.

I hope this summer is one for the books.

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Dont get a ticket in New Mexico on your drive back west. We’ll laugh on the floor again on your birthday.

I love you.

Your Anna

Dear Anna, I’ve Been Wondering

I really do get you. I have not been all the way well these past few weeks either.  I’ve been quite unhappy actually, not just because of sickeness. I told you how my friend’s little girls died last Tuesday? I just haven’t felt the same since it happened.  It’s made me wonder about a lot of things.  Things I’ve never had to wonder about before, you know?
I’ve been wondering what my life was like before I was born. If my soul somehow existed before it was in my body. I know a lot of people wonder when human life begins, but i’m curious about when the soul comes alive.  I wonder if before I was on earth I got to know God at least a little bit. I wonder if I loved him.  I have this idea in my head, this idea that maybe I chose for my life to be this way. Maybe I chose to have a life that includes suffering, sadness, death, poverty, and pain.  Maybe my young soul was so in love with this God she knew, she was willing to subject herself to hardship, to endure much pain for the sake of honoring the one she so deeply loved.  My soul, she must have know that at the end of life, after the hard parts were over, things would make sense.  Maybe she understood that the suffering would be worth the good that comes at the end of human life.
My soul now still knows God, maybe not as well she used to, but enough to know that if she could go back in time, back before I was born,  she would have chosen the same life.  She would choose a life of endurance for the sake of love. That’s what keeping me moving right now. My soul, who is older and wiser than I, deep down knows her God is worth living for.

Anyway. One day I will be less melodramatic.  Thanks for tolerating me sometimes and for loving me always.

Yours,

Bridget

Dear Bridget, This Weekend It Rained Me to the Couch

Dear Bridget,

When I say it rained me to the couch, I mean it rained so much that I had to stay on the couch all weekend, which is uncharacteristic of me. The rain just rained me right down, and I liked it. In my defense, I was sickly. Still am. Just the kind of sick where you really feel quite unwell, but not unwell enough to not live your life. Which is the worst sometimes, because you still have to go to work and do your obligations, but you feel just on the cusp of sick enough to make yourself slightly unhappy that you’re doing anything but being on the couch. Do you get me?

Here are some scenes from my couch and my inside days:

I spent a lot of time pulling out the weeds last week, but alas my yard shall always be a jungle.

I spent a lot of time pulling out the weeds last week, but alas my yard shall always be a jungle.

Luckily I know a guy... Swimming in a sea of dishwashers. I gave him a coffee. He said thank you. I said thank you for installing my dishwasher, which is a much bigger favor.

Luckily I know a guy… Swimming in a sea of dishwashers. I gave him a coffee. He said thank you. I said thank you for installing my dishwasher, which is a much bigger favor.

My cat is so photogenic, he looks straight at the camera like the adorable fiend that he is.

My cat is so photogenic, he looks straight at the camera like the adorable fiend that he is.

I'd never leave this place if I didn't have to. I'm in it right now, if we're being honest, WHICH WE ARE.

I’d never leave this place if I didn’t have to. I’m in it right now, if we’re being honest, WHICH WE ARE.

I love you more than I love Bruce Springsteen,

Anna

Dear Anna, I Wrote You This Letter

I wrote you this a week or so ago. It didnt feel long enough to send, but you always send them all, so I will too.

Thanks for giving me your house today.  I made myself right at home, just as I always do, but I think I took it to a new level this time. This time I figured out how to use the coffee maker.

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The coconut oil was just as decadent as you promised

It is now well into the afternoon and I am still in my nighty, watching my fith episode of Mad Men, taking hoola hoop breaks intermittently of course.

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It's hard to take selfies and work the hoop

I love it here, Anna.  It is my happy place.  I drew this picture for you,  you will find it under the goose on your porch. It’s us on the road somewhere in Arizona.

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It was supposed to be kind of like this

We were driving home so I made the horizon yellow, just like your house.

That’s all I wrote last week when I borrowed your house. Thanks for letting me and my girl stay there last night when we felt sad. You are the truest friend I could wish for.

I love you more than I love sleeping away the sadness.

Bridget