Letter From My Sister-In-Law

Dearest Friends and Family of Verna and Steve, My name is Donna Wefald;

I am Verna’s sister-in-law, her brother Marty’s wife, and one of her best friends as well. I just returned home from a visit with Verna last night, and this morning when I woke up, I realized that reality is still in place. I started daydreaming, as we all do, about how I feel and how I could let Verna know. Last week when I felt overwhelmed with sadness and helplessness, I wrote those feelings on a notepad. I thought I might give them to Verna, but instead I looked her in the eye and told her.

Over the next few days she told me, through tearfulness, how she feels and what she wants and needs. I never thought I’d be conversing with any person, planning out their “To Do” list before they die, but that is the reality. By the time I left her yesterday, in the good hands of my daughter Jillian, I felt she had been healed in some small way.

That brings me to the reason I’m writing to you. I know you all received a request for donations. My request is a bit different; I’m asking you to write a letter to Verna. Write anything you want . . . don’t be afraid. . . say what you’re feeling and tell her why, retell a memory you have about how you met her, or something that stands out in your memory about her. Send pictures of yourselves, your families, or your memories with her. Say anything you want, but please say something.

I am confident that she would look forward to your letters every day and that they would bring her happiness.

Her address is: 111 Almond Ct., San Rafael, CA 94903

With most sincere thanks, in advance, Donna

Holiday Letter 2009

Here is the holiday letter I sent out this season. I am still honing my skills as a holiday letter writer, but I see the missives as humorous responses to those who detail EVERYTHING about their families in wondrous tones:

Happy Holidays!

Life here is OK. Miguel is now in middle school and peppers many of his conversations with “I don’t know and “Not much.” He constantly reminds us that he is a preteen. We put him in an ultra advanced writing class and he is working on an underground blog created by a mystical band of children raising themselves.

He is still into sports. All the time. You name the sport, and Miguel will watch it or play it with gusto. We have entertained several offers from professional baseball, basketball, football, and curling teams for his services and are trying to decide which among them will be the best one. Skating across the ice with a broom appeals to me.

Maya started preschool in the fall, and we needn’t have been worried about her adjusting to the change. Her first words to Verna were, “Mommy, you can go now.” Maya is happy playing by herself or in groups. She smiles all the time, prances around the neighborhood as if she is the mayor, and is a total goofball. She loves books, especially when you read the same ones again and again, day in and day out.

We are in serious negotiations with CBS, Oprah, and the Cartoon Network for a syndicated TV series based on Maya’s life, a vast amount of experiences accumulated in less than four years on this planet. We’re talking millions!

I am no longer selling cars, drywall, and any other assorted useless or wasteful items that Corporate America continues to foist upon gullible consumers. I am a funeral director. Pause. Cue jokes and laugh track. Yes, things are dead here today. There, I said it. I am working for a non-profit Jewish funeral home, so I appreciate the opportunity to help people without worrying about commissions and selling.

In all seriousness, this year has turned out to be trying and difficult. As many of you know already, we found out on September 11 that Verna’s cancer had returned. But we feel extremely grateful to be surrounded by so many loving people, near and far, who have brought us meals, watched the kids, kept us in their prayers, and given us other temporal and material gifts.

May all of us be blessed with a healthy and happy 2010. All our love, Verna, Steve, Miguel, Maya, and Gigi