Yes, a better day.

Okay, trust me. This is the best picture I could get. I'm learning to use the timer on the camera, but the camera can't make me smile like Don could. I used to ask him to take 3 pictures so I could get a good one. I took TEN pictures and this is the best one I could get. It's hard to get me with make up that's not all smeared these days. I'm doing the best I can to give thanks for all the wonderful years we had and all the many blessings with which I am left. But the honest truth is that I feel like someone shot a bowling ball through my gut and I'm walking around with a gaping hole. It's like there is an elephant in the living room and, somehow, I'm supposed to accept that and go right on with life.

Here's the good news. Dorothy understands. Bless her precious heart! Her grandson is so good to her. She and I talk every day and we are stumbling down the same path. We do lots of things together, like church and some meals. I took her to Wal-Mart the other day because she needed a couple of things I could find for her. I think she and I are gifts for each other. We can cry together one minute and then we find a way to laugh and pick each other up. If anyone else found us crying they'd probably freak out; we don't have to be so careful with each other, and we'd be no good at putting up fronts with each other. We're just totally honest. The four of us were so close; we miss both David and Don. God will see us through this, but we are still very raw.

Thank you all so much for your love and support. I have gotten so many cards and so many of you have donated to the Magic Foundation and other places; it all pleases me. I appreciate so much your love and respect for Don and I thank you for making his death count for something more than a heartache.

When I got breast cancer I was not so shocked. My mother and her mother had breast cancer, so I always sort of suspected that I might also have it. However, Don's mother lived to be 86 and his dad was almost 96 when he died. I never expected to outlive Don. Even the day he had the heart attack, I didn't expect him to die. The stroke was the fatal blow, but I still didn't believe he would die and it's still so hard to believe. I keep looking for him in his chair. I keep saving the things he liked for him. I can get through this with your support; your love and your prayers. Thank you for all that.