The mushiest card

It was Valentine’s day. I was digging through the clutter that occupies a large part of my “to be filed” desk, looking for the papers I should have filed in a nice, organized place so that I could do our taxes this year without wanting to tear my hair out before I even open the W2 forms. Right now, the clutter is all “Ozzie stuff”, from his desk and boxes of paperwork, song lyrics jumbled with old letters, bills and contracts. I was sifting through papers I’ve been through a hundred times in the three months since Ozzie died, and I found a greeting card in an envelope that says “To Mom. The mushiest card I’ve ever given you. I just want you to know.” It was taped shut with duct tape, and I wanted to ask him “Ozzie what’s with all the duct tape on everything?” because that ubiquitous metallic gray stickiness has been on everything from his drum heads (which I understand) to his song lyrics (some of which are hopelessly stuck together). I opened it to find a very sweet and mushy birthday card, a $20 bill, and a note signed with his name and those of an ex-girlfriend and her son, dating the card to nine or ten years ago.

It was an eerie moment—how did this just appear at the bottom of the clutter pile? Was it possible that Ozzie had forgotten a card with $20 in it in his desk for ten years? (Unlikely—he remembered two things with unerring accuracy: anything to do with music and how much money he had at any given moment.) It took a few minutes to jog my memory, but I did remember the card, if not the money in it. I had been going through some file folders in the days after the accident, looking for photos and mementos for the picture boards, and had left some cards on the desktop, where they got buried under the Ozzie pile. A perfectly reasonable and logical explanation . . . except that I can’t shake the feeling that there is more to it than meets the eye. What prompted me to open the card right then, when I needed something to settle me down and pick up my spirits?

As I thought about it, I took myself back to the day he gave me the card (the first time, for those who might wish to believe that he arranged for me to find it again, as a Valentine). I loved the pretty pink ribbon and roses, and the greeting card sentiments were wonderful and meaningful, but the note he wrote is what touched me and brought tears back then, just as it did on Valentine’s Day. “. . . I’m going to make you proud. Thanks for waiting and believing. I owe everything to you and Dad. . . I would be lost without you. I love you both so much.” That is how a $20 bill got left in a card in a folder in my filing cabinet; I had already received the best gift a mother could get, and I wanted to make sure that I put it away before it got lost or someone spilled something on it.

The card I will put away and maybe it will surprise me again someday. The money? I might just leave it in there. I simply can’t think of a way to use it that would be as special as finding it has been.