Dear J.
I'm glad you're able to keep lucid and clear thinking in the midst of all that absurdity. I'm relieved that they've loosened the restrictions on our correspondence- please, then, keep me updated on what you're accomplishing. Ameson never came back, so I assume what vague information I gave him was all he thought he needed to know. I suppose there will only be more and more curiosity surrounding this and its possibilities. But I can't be expected to deal with curiosity. I've been feeling sort of blind, cut off after being so in the thick of it. What's done here while you're away: bills are paid, letters read and re-read and responses put off, roof repaired. I'm getting some work done but it's all on paper and I'm sure is going at a much much slower pace than yours. A bit tedious. But by comparison, the manic sort of way we got into this has left me a bit breathless, and with your being gone it's all very confusing. I can't imagine what your days are like. It's hard to believe that you're far out on the same stretch of land as me, that it's connected to here by dirt and roads and railroad tracks and mountains. I have to remember that, because it's difficult to not think of you as being in limbo, sort of hovering in an in-between place. Not here with me, nowhere I've seen. It's strange. It's difficult to conjure you up, what you're doing, seeing. It's a very lonely feeling. But I suppose if you're getting this work done it's worth it. As you say, a vision of God's grace. Much love to you, and please stay safe and stay well.
Yours,
M.
