February 28, 1968: Mixed Emotions

Second letter postmarked February 28, 1968: The CCZCC extends its winning streak to 29.

Dear Mother and Mike,

Get ready for my homecoming - March 3 (arrival time 2:30 AM Dallas time). I know you're all going to hate us for that ungodly hour and I can't blame you. Please forgive us and try to understand. Dave says he feels like we're no better than the Dirrs, imposing on y'all this way.

Do whatever you think best about picking us up at the airport. If it would be better on all of you for just Wayne to be there (I realize Mike must go to school the next day and you have to go to work), that will be fine with me. Secretly, I am hoping maybe you can take Monday or part of Monday off, but that is just wishing on my part - there's always Monday night for me to talk you to death.

[Since 1968 was a leap year, March 3 was a Sunday. So our flight must have departed L. A. the evening of Sunday, March 3 and arrived in Dallas at 2:30 AM on Monday, March 4. We would have flown into Love Field in Dallas since DFW Airport didn't open for commercial service until January of 1974.] [Fun Fact #1: The first landing of a supersonic Concorde jet in the US occurred during the DFW Airport dedication ceremonies in September of 1973.] [Fun Fact #2: One night in the early 1970s, my parents were out with some friends (Jim and Bernie Pyland). I don't know if they took a wrong turn or what, but they ended up driving on one of the runways at DFW Airport before it opened.]

Needless to say, David Wayne is excited. He drew a picture the other night of an airplane, stick-figure people on the airplane, and stick figures of all of you standing on the ground. He said, "If Knucklehead is there and if he feels like it, I'm going to give him a sock in the nose." He hasn't mentioned any punishment for the rest of you, but you better have your guard up anyway.

[I must have grown out of this violent stage rather quickly, as I don't remember being that way at all.]

Dave is another sad story. He has been gloomy and depressed ever since he called the airport. He was all for me going (relieved is a better expression) and he was just fine until it came to actually setting the day and hour. Of course, he tries to hide it, but I know him too well for him to fool me. He's miserable! He won't know anyone here (Hansens are leaving Friday) and there just won't be anything for him to do. I just pray he'll only have to spend one weekend by himself. He admitted the other night he didn't think he could stand the peace and quiet without David Wayne here.

[Awwwww . . . And to think that Dad was a bachelor just a year and a half ago.]

And then, too, he's worried about me having to get all the utilities turned on, the house cleaned, etc. He feels he should be the one to take care of those chores.

I am pretty excited myself about coming home and seeing all of you again. I would be happier if Dave could be there, too. There is so much for me to do and tales to tell and people to see that I can keep very busy the two weeks Dave is out here. I do hope you've already called the Browns about the baby bed. I really don't feel up to a reunion with them. If Mike could get it beforehand, he'll just have to run over and get it, whereas if I have to go, it'll be like "old-home" week and I'd have a lengthy visit. Not that I dislike them, but I just want to spend time with my family, or shopping for baby things, or just plain resting. And I can't forget about the rest as I'm at that point of pregnancy where I am big, uncomfortable, and tired. The "tired business" has been almost from the first month, however.

[Thank goodness we won't have to hear about this baby bed any more. That was getting as old as the baby food warmer.]

We have just about everything packed - you should see the boxes! It will take a magician to get them all in the car.

[As previously mentioned, it's a 1965 Pontiac Bonneville. No problem.]

I still have my kitchen stuff to get ready, but I can get that done Saturday. Dave has done all the packing and I just supervised, so I'm not worn out in the least bit. We've been doing a little each night so this weekend with Dave will be pleasant and relaxing. We'll call this weekend and tell you the flight number - probably we'll call Wayne, too.

I received a disturbing letter from the Jennings. It seems Mr. J., having nothing better to do, called Wayne to make sure he'd pick me up. In fact, it seems he's called Wayne often lately. The man had also called an airport and found out that I'm not supposed to fly (against regulations during eighth month) so he was all stirred up over that and naturally, told us exactly what to do. As you know, I've never had any complaints about Dave's parents - they're wonderful. But for just a moment as I read that letter, I felt the same about Mr. J. as I did about Charles' dad. (Remember how he was always telling us how to do things.)

[Charles was my biological father. It sounds like Mom had issues with her first father-in-law.]

Dave is embarrassed about his dad calling Wayne. I hope it didn't make Wayne mad. I guess since he retired he's got nothing better to do than worry about his sons. Dave says he never has been that way too much before. Well, we will just have to keep in mind that he means well.

[That's a good way to look at it. Consider the intentions. Another suggestion I heard a few years ago that really helps is to assume stupidity before malice.]

I better get this in the mail. Can't wait to see you and talk and talk and talk. I'll just never run down.

Love,

Linda

[And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the final letter. On March 4 I'll have a blog post about the trip home.]