Not Much To Report

I saw the other plastic surgeon Monday, and he concurred with the first one's assessment about how reconstruction might not be successful. However, this man did discuss other options and what I would have to do to get into shape for it. At least he gave me some hope. So, I should be seeing him again in March or so.

Fatigue is still a problem when it hits. (Ya wouldn't want to be anywhere near me at those times, cuz I'm just as liable to bite your head off!)

My brother and two of my sisters flew in yesterday. Connie brought some pictures of our cousins, grandparents, and aunts and uncles. One of the pictures shows the eight aunts sitting on chairs or benches with their husbands standing directly behind them. The women are all dressed in their Sunday best dresses, while the men are all wearing suits and ties. You could tell these men were all farmers, though, by the white foreheads. It's a very handsome group. The only one still alive today is Aunt Huldah.

Now for all you cousins out there....Bill used to tell me this, but I just never believed it, that I was Grandma's favorite. Well, Connie brought proof and a picture of her and me that I had never seen before. Grandma had written little notes to her kids and grandkids in a little notebook but had never mailed them: A note dated Nov. 11, 1952, said:
Dear Margret (she never could get the spelling right on my name!...On a crocheted box for me she had written "Margarit" But Grandma came to this country when she was 8 years old after learning how to read and write in German. So her English and handwriting were just beautiful!)

Nov. 11, 1952
Dear Margret My Little
Pal. my sweet little gal
heard you are sick
you better snap out of it
quick
That old Mumps
will soon be a thing of
the past and Grandma
will be so glad
Santa Claus will soon
come here
To look for you Dear
God Bless you All
love G.Ma

Connie had mounted the picture and note like they do in scrapbooking, and of course I was moved to tears.