August 14, 2006

Dear Family and Friends,
When I was a little girl, my Dad would always snap his fingers on Christmas evening and say, "It's almost Christmas!" That was because we were so forlorn that the day was over, and a year seemed so far away.

As I try to live my life in the moment, I can't help but have those forlorn feelings now and then.
When I arrived on Ocracoke June first to spend the entire summer with Philip, I remember saying to him that it was so wonderful to have all that golden time before us, and the ending of summer seemed so far away.

Time was not wasted. I, we, loved every moment. Days were spent working in the Village Craftsmen. I love working as a clerk...it actually is more like theatre as I welcomed tourists from all over. When we weren't working...we spent time on the beach meandering across sand dunes and swimming.

Evenings were spent giving ghost and history walks (two nights a week) as we each took a group of folks up and down the sandy lanes...around the Sound..by the cemeteries telling stories from long ago. We mixed history with island lore and haints from the past. I love sharing Ocracoke stories. I have learned so much.

Wednesday evenings found us performing at the Opry along with other storytellers and musicians of the island.

Sunday nights we shared with friends at the Jolly Roger listening to music and strolling home hand in hand down Howard Street.

Between all of these times, I researched at the library...spent time with Philip's family, friends....shared our pizer and cottage with authors and storytellers and musicians...watched stars and listened to Philip serenade me with his harmonica.

On my birthday, the house was filled with friends who brought out their instruments after dinner and played on the Pizer (front porch) while we danced.

The summer was golden and it was over before I could snap my fingers.
I never wore shoes.
I never drove a car.
I never cried.

Before I knew it, we were driving to Norfolk for me to board a plane to take a flight home...to Indiana where work and children and grandbabies awaited me.

I did not see the beauty of the clouds on that day as my tears were too plentiful.

The House at White Picket Gardens was aired out thanks to Karen. The garden was blooming and lovely thanks to Aaron...but oh, it is quiet and lonely. I miss him. I miss the way we live together.
As much as I would like to snap my fingers so that summer would be here once again, I do not believe in living that way.

For now, I will do my teaching and theatre and storytelling...tell bedtime stories to my little ones...have pot luck dinners with friends and neighbors...write on my pizer late into the evening....and wish Philip good night on a star out of my window.

Love to all,
Lou Ann

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