I got word this morning that my classmate Becky Thompson Tullos had died. She first had breast cancer, and then it went into her brain. She was 58. Another classmate sent me the obit. It had a picture of Becky, and I was surprised at how much she looked like her mother had looked. I was also shocked to hear that her older sister Bettie had already died.
I also got a mass forward from Mary's husband Johnny. More anti-Obama racist rant. It gets so old. Surely by now they've figured out that there is a direct correlation between their politics and my rare visits back to La.
It's been a long day, and I am exhausted. I taught three classes and had two meetings. My Esteemed Spouse drove up and had supper with me. He also put gas in my car and fixed that light on the porch.
The same classmate who told me about Becky also told me that our class's 40th reunion was this weekend. How nice of them to invite me. Perhaps living well is not only the best revenge--it's the most unforgivable.
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