My postcard writing campaign continued day after day, week after week and month after month.
And Mother always gleefully announced the arrival of yet another postcard or postcards.
I strongly believe that the most favourite of her postcards were the ones that came from my friends at work.
I know this because she spent an entire Sunday constructing a thank you poster for them.
She then instructed me to put it up at work.
Each time a friend would fill out a postcard for me, I would ask their permission to take a photo of them holding the postcard that they wrote for mother.
When she informed me that she had received one of my friend’s postcard, I would then forward her a picture of that person to her so that she could put a face to the kind soul who took the time to write her a few lines.
Her thank you poster included the pictures from everyone who had forwarded her a postcard. And there were a lot of pictures.
Mother sent me photos of how she had decided to display the postcards that I had been sending her.
She chose the wall next to the sofa where I always sat and knit when I visited her.
However, there came the day when she ran out of room on that wall. She then related to me a harrowing account of how she had to climb up onto the couch, and then stand on the armrests so that she would tape the newer cards to the top of the wall.
I was horrified!
This was yet another example of how my good intentions could possibly land my mother in the hospital as she tried to put up postcards that her daughter had sent.
It took several minutes and a lot of begging for me to make her promise that she would never do that again.
I told her that one wall was nice enough to decorate and she did not have to display any more postcards.
She agreed, reluctantly of course.
Over the next few visits to mothers house, I could see the postcards getting crammed into all her favorite next and crannies.
There were postcards everywhere.
It almost look like the apartment was being taken over by my postcards.
It was at about that time that I told myself…
“Okay, maybe I should stop sending Mother postcards.”
It was time to come up with another plan to help keep Mother motivated and happy.
Little did I know that time was just about to run out.