Letters from Nowhere

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Dear Aunt Morta,
When are you moving out here? The children are just inching to see you. Sahara won’t be quiet about it. She=s such a sweet heart.
I know you don=t want to leave, seeing as that was the first home you lived in after you left your parents’ house, but you must be so lonely. I mean, you can=t keep filling the gap Uncle Frank left when he past.
It would just be good for you, that=s all.
Oliver keeps expecting his father to come back. Maybe you can help him, you know. Give him strength to move on. Leave the past behind him.
With love always,
Sophie,
Oliver,
&
Sahara


Morta glanced over at the picture of her niece, great niece and great nephew. She gently set the letter on the end table next to her recliner. She made a painful face, even from that small movement. Her arthritis was acting up again.
She smiled with the thought of going to live with them in The Dominican Republic, though. How she wanted to leave this house of misery. This house held many good memories, but it was time to let it all go.
But as much as she wanted to, she knew she couldn=t. She very gently got the hard cover book next to the chair, a pen, and a piece of paper from a little stack under the end table.
She began writing.


Dear everyone,

I’d love to come and live come live with you, but there’s just so much I must attend to here.

Oliver, quit annoying your mother and move on. Make some friends; take your mind off everything. Alright? I won’t be coming if you’re going to be a pain.
Sahara, I’m sure there’s other things to be excited about. Isn=t your birthday coming up soon? Look forward to that, not something we don=t know will happen.
Sophie, my darling, I=ve known you your whole life, and never have I seen you so h*ll bent on something happening. If I don=t come then I=ll always find something to do here, and if I do, what can I do there?

Until next time,
Morta Ismay Anderson

Morta gently folded the letter and slipped it into an envelope.
I=ll just bring it into the post office in the morning, she thought to herself.

Morta dreamed of her days with Frank. When she first met him.
The year was 1948, on a warm summer’s day in July. With the post war, Frank’s father was home with only one leg. But of course, Frank and Morta did not yet know each other.
They were each eleven at the time. Morta lost her father in the war, and Frank=s mother recently died of Cancer. They lived about half an hour away from each other, but did not go to the same school.
They met all because Morta=s mom was a nurse. One day she got a job looking after Frank=s father. Morta, after a few weeks, began going with her mother to the meetings.
Frank was outside doing yard work when the two girls pulled over to the side of the road in their 1936 Ford Deluxe Cabriolet. Frank stopped and walked toward them, his eyes on glued to the car. He had short brown hair and blue eyes and was fairly tall for an eleven year old boy, coming up at about 5 feet 6 inches.

Morta and Frank became instant friends, and then began dating at the age of 16. They got married at the age of 20. The year was 1956. They had no children of their own but were always happy to look after their nieces and nephews.
It couldn’t last forever though. Frank had died in 2009 at the age of 73.

Dear Aunt Morta,
You are coming! I don=t care what you say, if I most, I will fly up there and drag you out of your house.
You won’t help Oliver thousands of miles away, and thanks a lot about trying to calm Sahara down. Now she want=s you up here by the time of her birthday.
But you know what, it gave me an idea. It would be her birthday present to her. You understand? You can move can come down here for her birthday, and stay!
Look, it’s a win-win!
With love always,
Sophie,
Oliver,
&
Sahara

Hello everyone,
I am still considering your offer, Sophie, and here is what I think so far.
If I do come I=ll need help packing, and I refuse to pay my whole way, simply because I hardly want to leave my home here. I will have no attitude what so ever, from anyone at all, on the way there or when I arrive.

And I must have something to keep me occupied all day every day. So those are my standard.
If you can do this, I will happily come and live with you.

Until next time,
Morta Ismay Anderson


Dear Aunt Morta,
Great! We accept everything! We=ll be there on the 12th of August, the kids and me, to help pack.
And don=t worry about the plane ticket, I=ve got it covered. I figure it=ll take about a week to get everything packed and your affairs in order.
So we=ll pack for seven days.
Alright, see soon!

With love always,
Sophie,
Oliver,
&
Sahara

Morta glanced at the calendar. The day was the 11th. They were coming tomorrow. Morta turned her head to the picture of the three of them.
She gently picked it up off the end table. She held it between her arms and chest, like she was hugging them. Her head shifted around the room.
She remembered all the times that she had in this room. She smiled at the fire place and remembered fondly of the days that Frank would fall asleep on the couch next to the chair she sat in. She remembered everything about this room, the good and the bad.


Morta=s sister had come over to see her.
She was the one to discover Morta=s body. Morta was still clutching the picture of her niece=s and nephew when the paramedics came to get her. They gently slid it out of her grasp, and put it back on the end table, as if a woman had not held onto it in her last moments of life.
Morta=s sister sifted to the picture of her daughter and grandchildren.
The picture had Oliver, blond hair and green eyes, smiling widely, his arms around his sister’s shoulders when she was sitting on a bench. Sahara=s smile was just as wide as her brothers, and she look so much like her mother. Sophie stood over them with sun glasses covering her brown eyes. Her hair was a soft brown, shoulder length. She was in mid laugh when the picture was taken.
The photo was taking only an hour before they went on the plane.
The plane heading toward The Dominican Republic. The plane that went hey wire that resulted in a fetal crash. The plane that claimed the life of the happy little family.

THE END





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