A Handwritten Note

Last week, I finally went to the store and picked out a card to send Taco's old owner.

I wrote him a short note and left my phone number, telling him that I'd love to have lunch with him and his wife and how I couldn't believe that so much time has gone by since Taco's death.

A couple of days went by and I didn't hear anything, so immediately assumed that he wasn't going to write back.  Ah well, I thought to myself, all of my links to Taco are now gone.

Today, in the mail, I did, indeed, find a tan-colored card envelope with his name on it, addressed to me.

It contained a check for $50 (which I really do not want - he has sent a check every year, but I never wanted any money for doing anything with Taco), as well as a note saying that he and his wife would love to have lunch with me.  There is something quite nice about receiving a handwritten note through the mail, in this age of technology.

I hope to set something up with them once the excitement from the holidays dies down.

I've only met him a handful of times before, usually not under the best of circumstances.  I can't even imagine how it will feel recall all of my memories with the man who, behind the scenes, enabled me to spend as much time with my beloved friend as I did.