My mother died in 1991. I’m fortunate to have a large cache of her papers, I came upon a draft of a letter I don’t remember receiving. It appears to be from the 1980s, after my father’s death, because she didn’t mention him. Mom was living at the top of Red Bud Rail overlooking Austin. It was circa 1983, when Springer and I were building a house in Vermont, I think. Some background: Flower and Jingo were Lhasa Apsa dogs. My parents sometimes called me “The Caboose,” my being the last of four kids. And finally, my mother’s health was poor during the pregnancy with me, and her OBGYN Dr. Kincaid may have suggested that I should be terminated. Thanks, Mom! Jeana was a free-spirit and a wonderful mother, artist and poet. I was very lucky to be her son. Very lucky as it turned out.
Dearest Sperry,
Every night when I go to bed I think of my darling son, and hope he’s having the time of his life. The air here is like wine, and I write and paint and housekeep, but every so often when my blood feels cool and I’m not feeling good, I put on my corduroy coat and run all over the lawn in the sunshine with Flower and Jing too. The yellow daises are all in bloom up Red Bud Trail and I feel that they have been placed there by God just for me, so I thank Him and want Him to know that I read the card from His private florist and send Him a kiss of “Thank You.” My great love is for all of the beautiful children He set to me. What woman could be so fortunate as to have so much joy and sorrow and love and all of life that I have had, and not the least of that, the Caboose. Your understanding has always been a boon of steadiness and poetical flare that has filled many of my days with joy. And to think had I been a pat little soul, Dr. Kincaid might have talked me out of you, my beautiful baby and fine young man.
So you can see that this is nothing on earth but a love letter. May God bless you and keep you until we see one another again.
Mother