Good Morning George

It's been a while, that's for sure. I've been meaning to write to you, but it's been hard with everything happening around here, what with the Hydrangeas just coming into bloom and Ethan going back to school - it's as if life doesn't want this letter to be written. But Ethan's just gone down for his nap and Tito is out for the afternoon, so I've got plenty of time to write of the goings-on around the Kennan household.

Like I mentioned, Ethan's just gone back to school, with much gusto I might add, and comes home everyday with a head full of thoughts and eyes full of colors. He reminds me so much of you, right down to his wry smile and sandy hair. He's got Nana's eyes though, you can never quite pin down the color. Tito took him out to the coast the other day and when they came back, Ethan showed me all the things he had collected - abalones, crown snails, alabaster coral and a curious piece of sea-glass. I still have that necklace you know, it hangs from my dresser - it catches the light beautifully in the morning. Speaking of which, it's quite apparent Ethan's going to follow in his father's footsteps as a man of the sea - but hopefully he will lack the recklessness you seem to flaunt so well. But let's not talk of our problems, they seem so petty now that Ethan has been born.

I received your package just last week; it must've been a right horror trying to get such a large shell shipped all the way from the Seychelles. Ethan loves it, as do I - it now adorns the little coffee table in the east nook. I haven't had much time to read the manuscript that came with it though, mostly just the opening chapters, but I have made some sketches of the photos you've taken, and I asked Tito to take them to the publisher for approval.

I remember when you took me to the Seychelles - it was just yesterday wasn't it? I've never seen such clear water, such blue skies, God they're better than the weather here. Sometimes I just can't stand these Cape Cod winters, the sky is an eternal shade of grey and the wind howls through the bay windows most every night - Tito had to nail them shut last weekend, the latches wouldn't hold. But it's probably best I'm not there with you, there's too many memories. I still think about that summer you know. I try not to, but every once in a while I find some trinket we bought and those days just come back to life. Just writing this letter reminds me of our correspondence we had back then. But I didn't write this letter to reminisce, at least that's what I keep telling myself.

Oh, that's Ethan's waking up, he'll be calling for me in a moment. Time to end this letter - I hope this finds you and the crew in good health. I'd ask you to write back, but I doubt you'll have the time anytime soon. Sorry if I rambled, but that's the status quo with me isn't it?

Goodbye George,

Jess