Daddy's birthday

Today would have been Daddy's 98th birthday. I miss him. It's also Tommy's wife Teresa's birthday. She's a mere 39.

Tee is my "reporter" from back home. She tells me Sally is going off the deep end and that everyone thinks she is either suicidal or homicidal. Sally called here the other night and talked to my husband (not me at all) for half an hour or so. He wouldn't say much, other than she seemed stoned. I don't know what she's on (in the past it's been both booze and pills), or if she's just finally reached the end of her mental rope, but everyone is worried about her. She's lost so much. Losing her mind would just be the understandable result. Now, of course, I am feeling guilty because I have deliberately not kept in touch with any of them except Teresa. (Jena, Louisiana relatives, that is.)

I guess I need to write to Sally. Maybe that would help. I don't know. It's going to be another couple of weeks before we can drive down there.

Stephen was depressed yesterday when we talked to him. He says hitting 35 was depressing because he feels he's done so little with his life. I wish someone would hire him so he would feel like he's a productive, contributing member of the world again.

Okay, now I've made myself good and depressed. Damn. Gotta get past this feeling.