Sunday afternoon

MY BFF Velma, sent me a card in the mail the other day. It is a very cute card, two kitty's in a wagon! Me and my BFF. She's 93 years old and we've been BFF's for about 8 years, now. I'd not heard from her in forever, which scared me. Because, we talk to each other every day, or every other day. She fell down, and busted up her face and wounded her arm so she couldn't even write. I got a hold of a friend who talked to a friend! One of her daughter's took her in, and won't let her go home. My BFF is of the generation, the Great depression. She used to walk to and from work everyday; Work, eight-hours a day. She would wake up around 5 a.m. to pray on her Holy Rosary beads. I admire her a lot, and am proud to be her friend. So proud. She hasn't been to mass, in a month of Sunday's which is why she wrote to me. I called up friends from church to make a way for my BFF to have her Communion. I know her well enough, to be able to read between the lines when she tells me something. It is the greatest human comfort, To be known. It is no wonder me and Velma are BFF's two pigheaded, determined and stubborn women.
I haven't told her, my dad died. She can't hear, And I'd have to say it a couple of times to get through. And, I just can't bare to talk about it never mind feel the pain of it. The hurt and sorrow of it. Plus, I don't want for her to worry. I took my badself to the Holy mass this a.m. I had to. I'd not gone since, my dad died. I am a different woman, I am since my dad died. I have yet to know how, and what. I just know I am not who I used to be. Although it was odd, it was nice to be at mass, this a.m. I have some friends and people who I've come to adore. I found myself lying about my absence; Because, I just didn't want to talk about it. My closest friends, know I am a private person. That would include the heavenly host who heard me lie, about why I had been gone. Well it isn't like I don't have tons of work to do! I've gotta finish up Madame Bovary and begin to look for the book, Lolita to start reading. A few papers, and take home tests to look at and take. It is chilly in NE Portland. My hands and feeties are cold? I had this grand plan for a big Sunday a.m. breakfast...I may have it, as a brunch of sorts. It is afternoon, now. Rooting for the Indianapolis Colts....I am a devoted David Letterman fan. Who himself is from Indiana.....It swayed my vote.....Guess you gotta root for someone in your life?