Daphene asked me recently how you would feel about something she is very excited about. After days of contemplation, I woke up this morning and decided to write you a letter hoping for an answer to her question. She’s persistent like you. I would expect that of your twin. She always desired your approval. She still does.
Shortly before you departed this earth, Denver (the man of your dream) said he believed you were an angel. I looked up the definition that said angels deliver messages from God and carry out His desires on earth. I believe Denver was right, so Daphene and I need to hear from you. How is it God took the poorest and most dangerous homeless man in our city to inform me I was married to an angel. Forgive me for not recognizing that sooner. I still marvel how God used Denver as His messenger during our most desperate times. Do you remember him ever being wrong? I don’t, though he was far from perfect.
It seems so silly to ask you if angels read. And I ‘m smiling as I write with the same childlike faith I had when I would write to Santa expecting toys. Someone said angels just know because God tells you. If that’s the case, you won’t need to read this letter, but Daphene keeps asking what you would think.
Today is October 25, 2011, our forty-second wedding anniversary. Did you remember? Does an angel ever forget? What a dumb question. Of course, you remembered. You always had the memory of an elephant though you know I’ve never spent time with elephants, I take it to mean a long and perfect memory.
I’d be shocked if by now your Father in heaven hasn’t told you about the popularity of Same Kind of Different As Me. It was Denver’s idea to write it. He said, “Nobody will ever believe this story about you and me and Miss Debbie.” So, it’s your story that millions have read…hold on…what did you say? Yes, of course, Debbie, please forgive me, I meant to say God’s story!
Sometimes I joke about your fifteen minutes of fame that Andy Warhol said everyone would have. Of course, you remember Andy. He is the one that painted that yellow and green self-portrait that hung in our Greenway Road “Beaver Cleaver” house in 1976. You hated it and as a highfalutin art dealer, I hate to admit I did too. Remember, I gave it to Julio and you won’t believe it, but I saw it in Basel, Switzerland last year for sale at $6 million. Since you never cared about money that news probably doesn’t hurt you like it did me. Please excuse this trivial chatter, but you know I chased after money while you chased God.
Unlike me, you never sought to draw attention to yourself (proof of your angelic nature), just to Jesus. In your heart you wanted your face to disappear so that “God’s People” could see the face of Christ. Daphene and I talk a lot (Are your ears burning?) and we both agree you were content to let us shine and like the words of a song you were, “the wind beneath our wings.” But don’t laugh since you know unlike your wings that were earned, if you ever saw wings flapping on our backs they would have been purchased at a costume shop.
Do you remember one of our first dates in 1965 when you invited me to dinner at the Old Swiss House to meet Daphene. As we were driving there, you told me she was the “pretty” twin and always full of surprises. Then over the next thirty years we watched from the sidelines while she surprised us with amazing successes, and even a little tap dancing. And how can I forget all the mornings I saw you on your knees praying her through her more painful surprises. Well, Honey, in case you haven’t heard, Daphene is up to big surprises again. Are you sitting down? (Excuse me for not knowing, but do angels ever sit down?) Debbie, this is no joke, “Daffney Snort from Sider”, yes the very one you let copy your homework and tests, the one you wrote term papers for…remember…now here is the shocker…Daphene wrote a book…a really good one…about you…well, not really just you, about the two of you, the twins, and how God restored the “Ya Ya” sisterhood bond that the devil tried to steal away.
That’s what she keeps calling and calling me about, wanting to know what I think you would think about the book. Don’t tell her, but sometimes I screen her calls. Like I said in the beginning, her whole life she has desperately wanted your approval. Nothing has changed.
Her heart is pure in wanting to honor God by telling your story…her story…okay, okay, yes, I mean God’s story about your lives. Oh, there you go with that memory. You remember I’m a better talker than listener…thanks for the gentle reminder.
Anyway, Daphene is worried that you might be upset about her spilling the beans on her twin. Is it crazy to think angels get bothered by anything?
Really, it’s not our fault (well maybe) that people hunger for more Debbie stories and now Daphene stories. Same Kind of Different As Me whetted appetites. What Difference Do It Make caused an itch that hopefully Our Southern Breeze will scratch.
You wanted people to know Jesus. Our Southern Breeze is about Jesus. All the things you believed (sometimes I doubted and you knew it) are real. The prophecies and words you were sure came from God became reality. Our Southern Breeze confirms them all.
Need I remind you that Daphene and I caused you to spend lots of time on bended knees? (Did I hear you chuckle?) No wonder your heart went AWOL and took resident alien status in an iceberg somewhere near the North Pole. Our Southern Breeze is a celebration of the melting of that iceberg that was prophesized in Anaheim. Our lives are now afloat in the summer waters warmed by the breeze of your forgiveness and love.
Please indulge Daphene to tell these stories that hopefully will bless and heal others frozen in their own icebergs. We promise to give God all the glory.
After the southern breeze came, do you remember telling Daphene that God gave you a vision of her standing in front of thousands telling her story? Well, get ready, God was telling the truth (no, duh!) She has been invited to speak to thousands and per your final instruction to her, she promised not to make a fool of herself, and of course, she will tell funny stories. They are all in her book.
To read the entire letter click here to purchase the book.