Tuesday, January 15th.
I spoke with Samantha, throughout the long and frustrated day.
It became obvious today. I’ve known for a long time, what was coming soon enough.
Now, I’m surprised to find that everyone is surprised. Who knew? I did.
Samantha was born in 1840 something. My early memories include looking up at my Grandfather, at his desk, sword by his side. Just up above his shoulder, over the left side of a very resolute desk, and watching us from over the fireplace mantel is Samantha.
Her portrait is painted and framed in gold. Every small child, every cat, every dog and now five little ferrets always want to stop and look up at the pretty lady in the ringlets and blue gauze dress. She is beautiful.
I named her, Samantha. We will be friends for my life.