My Dearest Sister - April 8, 2020

My Dearest Sister,

I fear my yesterday’s correspondence did not post. Suffice it to say, that is how it seems that things are going these troubled days.

The rains have returned and with it a chill in the air and a cloud of melancholy that falls upon me once more. I know this shall pass, but I find my mood does swings like the watch fob carnival show hypnotist, back and forth, back and forth… I am most fortunate to have your Sister-in-law her to keep me entertained and to snap me back to what is important when sorrow does overtake me.

I had read of Ms. Ross’s stages of grief but did not know I could feel them all within the same hour. I find them to be much like the weather in Vermont, unpredictable and ever changing. I draw a picture of a half-hearted smiling face so that you might believe I have come to the “acceptance” stage of the relevant topic. 😬

In our ongoing efforts to get your Sister-in-Law’s recording studio up to snuff I set about the task of running a wire through our cramped crawl space in the attic. No small deed I will tell you, and not one for the faint of heart or claustrophobic. I donned my protective coveralls, facemask, and gloves, and prepared a string of expletives that surely will be needed to complete the task at hand. If you do not know why expletives are needed for such a task, I believe your Best Beloved Husband would be more than happy to give you insight as to the necessity of course language applied to frustrating labors.

It would be an understatement to say that I was ill prepared for the infuriation that was required to run one thin wire a mere fifty feet across an attic floor. Many harsh words were yelled from the attic. Less you think this gave Julie worry, I remind you that she is of hearty Irish stock and no string of salty talk echoing from the rafters could bring blush to her beautiful cheeks.

At one point, while sliding my insulation covered body under the furnace for the sixth out eight times, when only two were required (again your BBH may be of assistance if you are not familiar with “home depot’s rule of home repair” in which multiple trips are made, when only one is truly needed), my back against the furnace, facemask in the insulation, the furnace kicked on… It was at that time that I realized why the Good Lord himself had put yoga in my life as I quickly chaturanga'd my ass out of there. I write you here to say that I am enjoying the thought of this in hindsight and that it brings laughter to my voice to think what a sight that must have been had anyone been there to bear witness.

We shall see what today brings us. I know I am blessed to have such tasks, a home to do them in, and a lovely Irish wife to share the time together that this wretched plague has brought. There are blessings to be counted and I am rich with them.

Amount our blessings is that you, your BBH, your boys and their loving families, and our adoring parents and friends are safe and as happy as these times allow.

Yours,
Your Brother and Sister-in-Law

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Lon Gowan is an actor/stuntman/writer and the most excellent brother a sister could ever want. His "My Dearest Sister" letters may be the best thing to happen to me during the COVID-19 Quarantines. 

Julie Dolan is an actress, musician and favorite Irish wife/Las Vegas Showgirl. We were thrilled the day she married my brother.

Susan Terry is a mediator, consultant, musician, and storyteller as well being our Esteemed Mother. She and her Yankee Husband and Gentleman Farmer, Stephen Parker live in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont at High Reach Farm

Bill Quern is my Beloved Husband and we're known collectively as Box and String.

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