I haven't written about writing letters in quite some time, but that doesn't mean I haven't been writing letters. While it's true that I don't correspond as frequently with others as I was doing a couple years back when I wrote a letter every single day for a year, I still have a collection of friends with whom my correspondence is solely through handwritten letters, back and forth, pen to paper, red flag to red flag.
A few days ago, July 3 to be exact, was Ms. Bessie's birthday. Ms. Bessie was a cafeteria lady at Clemson when I was a student there almost 20 years ago. She worked in the dining hall at Clemson House, mostly swiping students' meal plan cards at the front entrance. She also worked part-time as a janitor cleaning one floor of one of the large education halls.
My sister Holly has been my biggest fan and supporter as I've begun this recovery journey. She writes me Trader Joe's cards with birds and flowers to say she is proud of me for figuring out and following through on the process of going to therapy, that she hopes I'm doing okay with my non-exercise routine, and that she will do anything she can to help and encourage me.