Kindred Spirits

Angela M. Riverside 

22 St. James’s Place 

Arles, France 

Dear Angela,                                                         May 23, 1975

I have finally caught the little vermin. Oh how he gave me trouble, but I have prevailed, and can now rest in peace, knowing my garden is safe. I placed a clever little slip knot by the carrots last night, and when I came out this morning to gather up some strawberries for breakfast, I could hear its wails from the greenery. I had a momentary lapse of weakness, but as I walked closer the devil had made a trail of uprooted vegetables all the way from the gate, to the blasted opposite stone wall. Well, lets just say that my irritation returned with a new venom, and Henry came and took it away, the dear. I swear I could hear it cursing me to hell and back. 

On a brighter note, Marry has been helping me with the bouquets at the shop. She as a wonderful eye for colors, and knows just what to combine, I never would have thought to combine foxgloves with hydrangeas. 

Enough about me, how are you? Have you finished your painting? The one of the couple on the steam boat. My they looked in love, at least they did in the picture you sent. I do hope that Mr Franchise will accept it into the exhibition. It was so lovey, reminded me of when I caught you and Ronald Finchley behind that big oak tree down by the river. Goodness did you two have chemistry, why you could practically here it sizzle. Give everyone at the studio my love.

 With kisses, Martha

Martha L. Hudson 

25 Glebe Rd 

Hawes, England

Dear Martha,                                                      May 30, 1975

 As you can see, I have finally acquired the ink I need for my typewriter. It took me two weeks to track down someone who still carried it, and surprisingly I found it at a little antique shop. The place had a whole back shelf dedicated to typewriters, letters, and calligraphy, all from the 40s, you would have adored it. It had such an air of sophistication, as though the items themselves would not subject them selves low enough to be called junk. It was not like most antique stores, where it smells like moth balls and has a three layers of dust on every surface. The place had a very refined atmosphere. We must go together when you visit.

I am relieved to hear you caught that groundhog. I would have fashioned a trap to kill it on the spot! 

Mr Franchise did accept my painting. As I hung it up on the wall, the night before the exhibition, he gave a great sigh, as though releasing a tender memory. He told me that that he accepted my painting because I had captured the feeling of passion so beautifully on a flat surface. I gave a gracious nod, but Martha I tell you, inside I was practically giddy. Mr Franchise awarded it, “Best exhibit of the month”, and the proceeds from the exhibition went to the children’s home. 

Prior to your assumption the kiss between me and Ronald Finchley was merely a peck on the lips, no more than the exchange between you and Marcus Barkley. I chuckle writing this because only two weeks, later you came bursting through my door, breathless, panting that you were going to marry Marcus or die a widow. Well, you got the last laugh obviously, but I got the last jest if you’ll remember. 

Everyone in the studio says they miss you, and wonder when you’ll come for a visit again. Arles is awfully lonely without you. 

With all my love, Angela 

My dear Angela,                                                    June 12, 1975 

 I miss Arles more than you know, but it’s been wonderfully busy here because of the double wedding next week. Now I know your curious as to who it is, but first let me tell you that I did not arrange it, no, I kept my nose out of it and you better be proud, because it nearly cost me my sanity. The Dawson’s twin girls are to marry the two Holaway boys. A right fine match if I do say so myself. They chose a wonderful time to marry, summers here at Hawes are just so dreamy.

They want me to supply the flowers, 52 bouquets, and 24 streamers. I feel like one of Marandas honey bees. They’ve also asked me to give a little speech as well, nothing big, just recite some of the well wishes and blessings of Yorkshire which I am delighted to do for them. 

Do you remember when you asked me to read the same thing at your wedding, you looked so beautiful and everything was just how we dreamed it would be, I couldn’t help but cry.

Every time I see a peony I whisper our vow, I will give my heart to my husband, but you will always be my kindred spirit. 

With kisses Martha 

P.S. I am overjoyed to hear how well your painting did. I agree, you do have a way of capturing life’s passions. 

Dear Martha,                                                        June 18, 1975

I’m so pleased to here about the happy couples, and bravo to you, I am quite proud. I absolutely loved looking after those girls in Sunday school, both were little darlings. I’m sorry I can’t come, I have been having one of my migraines at least once every two days, though don’t worry ,please, the doctor said they are normal at my age. 

All this week I have felt as though certain things have lead me to remise over the past, makes me feel old, but in a good way. Having all theses memories just means I have had a full life, full of laughter, and love.

It’s been raining here, but not the usual drizzle, no, this is rain that carries big fat droplets, that stream down the window like tears. Looking at those droplet seemed to whisper me back in time, to when I left for France for the fist time. Standing on that gravel road, that we had traveled so many times before, we held each other, crying our goodbyes. I remember my tears mixing with the rain, and how you held my hand, as if for the last time, and not just for six months. I believe that was the hardest thing I ever did, leave you there in the rain, as I drove off to France, and art school. If you recall, I had a letter from you not two days after I got there, telling me to not cry another tear, and go into art school with gusto, and joy.

Anyway I must go now, have to stop by the studio and touch up some paintings.

With all my love, Angela

Dear Angela,                                                        June 26, 1975

Today would be Marcus’s 84th birthday, and for the first time in six years I’m not at his grave, no I am writing to you under our oak, listening to a mockingjay produce the most beautiful melody. I figured I’d go over years of life, love, and happiness under our tree, instead of reminiscing over what could have happened at the grave. As I sit here do you know what I came up with? I came up with the most wonderful, woven tapestry of love. Love for those who helped us find our better half, love for those who encouraged us, through the fights, and late nights at work, love for those who gave us a second chance, and love for those who sat up till midnight, with a bottle of Apple Wine. I look around, and I see love, in the smallest of forms, an encouraging smile to a haggard mom, and in the protonate ones, such as a double wedding. I wish every day Marcus was still here, holding my hand, telling me I’m as beautiful as a daisy, but I now see that in the tapestry of love, every strand holds something together, and your strand is right next to mine.

With kisses, Martha

Dear Martha,                                                          July 3, 1975  

I have missed you so much, and your last letter sealed the deal. I’m coming to Hawes, and I’m not leaving. I realize it’s sudden, but good golly, I’m 78! I’m ready to come home. I have lived out my dream to its fullest capacity, I have lived the artists life, I have fallen madly in love, and I have had losses which have fueled my work, and created masterpieces. Even though I will leave a life behind, I will be coming to a story, which needs to be finished where it started. You, my dearest, have, and always will be, my kindred spirit. I want to come back, and be those two souls out in the meadow picking Queen Annes Lace and Aster flowers with you one last time. I have already made arrangements to come, and live in my aunt's little cottage. I hope to be settled by the end of the year, and my dear, please do not tell anyone, I want to see their faces for myself when I show up for good! 

With all my love, Angela