I recently received this lovely painted duck from my cousin, Vici. Her enclosed letter read:
Anita,
I wanted to give you something that Mom had painted. I had brought the duck with me when I came to Kansas and forgot to get it out of the car. I hope that you will enjoy it.
It was so good to see the family. I know you think of your mother all the time and miss her terribly. In my experience, time does not heal all wounds - but it does soften the pain of loss.
Love, Vici
Hi Vici,
What a wonderful surprise. I love My Duck. Thank you so much for sending it to me, I will treasure it always.
As I was holding and admiring My Duck, I was thinking about your mom. I have clear memories of seeing her paint, of hearing her speak of how EASY it was to do. Hah! Even as a child, I knew better. You're mom had a gift. I was always fascinated by your mom...she was all the things my mom wasn't and as kids, we notice those things, even though we may keep them to ourselves. Where my mom was small and quiet, your mom was tall and spoke her mind. Your mom embraced her creative gift, and while my mom admired it, she was content to express herself in her cooking and sewing. I think our moms had mutual respect for one another, and I'm glad they had each other.
I'm glad I have you. (I'm glad I have My Duck - thank you).
Anita
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