I wish you could read this letter that I'm writing to you today. I think the last time you and I talked was last year on my birthday. Every year, you'd call me up on the phone and sing happy birthday. Usually, I hate hearing that song... but you give it such a sweet and gentle melody that it always brings tears to my eyes.
Ever since you and I met at my grandfather's church The Carpenter's House... we were friends. It doesn't matter that you and I were decades apart in age. I admired you for your beautiful voice, your graceful demeanor, and your endless compassion towards everyone.
Our ways parted and we started attending different churches. I graduated and went to college and my life was just beginning. But no matter how many years had passed, we continued to keep in touch through letters and pictures. I absolutely loved getting letters from you. They brightened my day so much!
Today, I was told that you passed away.
I never knew how much of impact you made on my life.. how much you could take someone for granted... and how much you can miss someone you love after they've gone. I feel like I could have written you more, called you first, or at least visited once. I know I can't change that now but I will never forget the memories I have of you.
As you look down from Heaven, please know that you are the reason why I am doing the job that I am doing right now. You are the reason why I respect and admire every single story that my clients tell me. You are the reason that I show such tenderness and compassion to my clients, whether they are in a good mood or not. Because sometimes all they need is for someone to show them that they care.
I will always keep you in a special place in my heart, Doris. I love you like family because in my heart... you are. Rest in peace, Doris. I will miss you.
The Little Boy and the Old Man
Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the old man, "I do that, too."
The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."
"I do that too," laughed the little old man.
Said the little boy, "I often cry."
The old man nodded, "So do I."
"But worst of all," said the boy, "it seems
Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
"I know what you mean," said the little old man.
--
Shel Silverstein
Dedicated to Doris Graham.... from one caring heart to another.
