Hey: Despite Burl Ives chirrupy good wishes, Christmas isn't always Holly Jolly. We received two phone calls today within a half hour of each other telling us that someone had just died. The first call was a cousin of Ruth's who I didn't know well, but the little time I spent with him, he was a very warm, intelligent, caring man. He lived in Washington, D.C. and did historic restorations of old buildings there. He took us on a wonderful tour of Washington and then treated us to a memorable dinner and a very up-scale restaurant. He'd been going down slow, so it wasn't a surprise, but it is still upsetting.

Five minutes after we finished talking with Ruth's brother and sister-in-law about their cousin's death we got a call from Ruth's best friend of over forty years telling us that her son had died. I didn't really know Billy. I met him a couple of times, but Ruth knew him well. I knew Billy's father who sang tenor in a wonderful black gospel quartet in Stamford, where I lived for many years. It was another hard blow to take, even though we knew the end was coming.

If it's in you, lift some prayers for all the family members who will have a mournful Christmas.

I'm o.k.

Jerry