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Dear Alyse

 Today, you’re 35. Or at least you would be, in this place. You probably know this, but we’re OK. Not great, but OK. We know you wouldn’t want us moping around and weeping all the time. We try not to.

Actually, I guess part of the problem is that you didn’t know how much we loved you. And that you didn’t know how to love yourself. I hope you have gotten to Love by now. Not a place, but fills everything in every way. I’m not Him, but he probably said, “Dear daughter/sister, you have been terribly hard on yourself. Rest now, and be at peace.”

Anyway, teaching is going well, and I tell the kids all about you. They all say you are pretty. I usually can keep the boys from saying something gross for a few seconds.

Mom and I are going to the game tonight. And like 6 more times, before I go back to South Carolina. I have seen Nicky twice, but I myself haven’t seen your younger kids.

Bob took pictures of the day we said goodbye, and we did a family picture at the Abbey. I literally almost asked where you were, before I remembered. You’d probably laugh at that. I didn’t, but you would.

James told me what you told him about me, and how you felt. Since you’re not here, you can’t get mad! Haha!

I know: I’m an ass. You’re an ass, too. Ass! OK, I enjoyed that way too much. But you laughed at all that. You have the brothers you have.

I love you, obviously. Don’t get too comfortable, and save me a seat.

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