This is the last known letter that Marcy wrote, written and postmarked the day before she died. (The date at the top says 10/10, but I’m pretty sure that was a mistake; I assume she meant to write 11/10. The postmark definitely says November 10, and I’m nearly certain that she wasn’t yet at Orcas Island on October 10.)
It’s just a notecard, written to my uncle Paul and aunt Linda about the impending birth of my cousin. It was sent c/o George and Helen; the copy that I have is a photocopy. The front of the card appears to have been an image (a drawing, I think) of half a dozen kids holding hands and dancing in a circle.
At the time of this letter, Marcy was on Orcas Island, off the coast in Washington State. I’m not clear on why she was there—I don’t think that she went there expecting to die there (and this letter seems also to suggest that she was still hoping to get better), but I don’t know what in particular she was there for.
Well, I hope (s)he has been born by now - I guess there’s no hope for a girl if your timer-button-popping-out theory is correct, Lin, but whatever
xkind comes out I know you will all bring each other much happiness and strength and high energy.
I guess I’ve come to Orcas Island to be healed, but whether or not the physical healing takes place, a growth in spirit is already evident. My room faces on a
xtiny inlet of the sound, gulls and sea otters and rain and lapping water - and even, would you believe, a friendly housefly- are all healing to the spirit xxxwhile physical and emotional work do their job on the rest of my bodies.
Fasting - time for another nap. A blessing upon your whole family.
I’m glad that in her final days, Marcy had gulls and otters and lapping water.
For a description of (among other things) how we heard about her death, see a piece I wrote in 1989: “Distances and Directions.”