I got home from my Champaign trip on Saturday afternoon to find a large square box resting against the wall next to my dresser. I picked it up to see who it was from and discovered that both the delivery address and the return address were the same—mine. Confounded, I tore off the packing tape, folded back the cardboard flaps and pulled out a bright canvas print decorated with a picture of my mom and a copy of a letter she'd written to my siblings and I on December 11, 2013.
I still hadn't figured out who'd sent the print when Judy and Kevin came over for brunch yesterday morning. When they saw it sitting on the kitchen counter and asked if I'd had it made I explained to them that it was kind of a mystery and I wasn't sure who'd sent it and Kevin said, "Wow, you really have a lot of wonderful people who love you."
"Yeah I do," I said.
I still haven't figured out who sent me the print, and even though I plan to hang it somewhere in the house where I'll pass by it every day, I think that the letter it contains is worth stashing here anyway, for safe-keeping.