Sunday, January 9, 2011

I slit open the envelope, knowing I should write to my sister more often.

Dear Misha,

Mom isn't doing well. We went up to Seattle for some tests and are waiting to hear back, either an answer or more tests. By the time you get this, I might know something. If I do, I'll send it along.

But I wish you were here, and I hope you can find some way to get home if the news isn't good. I don't want to make a big deal if it's nothing, but I'm worried. Keep a prayer for us.



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