Here I am, jumping for joy

To the editor:

It’s been a long time since I have written to the paper. 

“Why don’t I see your letters?” I am asked in the elevator or the laundry room.

“I am tired of it all!” I say. But, in fact, I’m not.

The same neighborhood issues, and then some, prevail. Racist graffiti is added to my already long list of complaints — noisy cars, cars parked for the season, campers still on the service road of the parkway, dirt all over. And, hardly any enforcing of these rules.

Do you read me, you politicians? 

Sure, the rooster is gone, but who knows what will come next. The folks seem to wear their masks and be more considerate.

But “it ain’t over ...”

I am taking a trip to Florida to see my son and grandson who I have missed now for more than two years. I have almost forgotten how to pack, what to pack. I will jump for joy — if I can still jump.

I will birdwatch, eat outside, and try to recall what it was like before the before. I will be careful in Florida, though.

Zoom has helped me through all this. Writing, reading, painting, learning, making friends and loving the “time” with family. But I, like you, want more. Hugs. Kisses. Intimacy. Is it going to be?

I will be 79. I have miles to go and places to see. I hope. But, 79 — I have letters to write and complaints I want heard. 

Thanks for listening.  More to come. I hope.

Judi Veder

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