Dear Delilah,
I lost my dear Sylvia over two years ago, god rest her soul, and I don't think I will ever be over losing her. The pain
seems to grow exponentially each day. It's as if part of me died that day, and more and more of me dies and hurts with each
day that passes. Sylvia was my wife and life for 58 years of blissful marriage, she was the only true friend I had. Now I
have no one. Yes there are people I know that I could go to, to stop this hurting of loneliness, but those people were
friends of ours, not just friends of mine, and I feel out of place, almost not a whole, when I am around them. It is as if I am
missing part of me when I go to them, so I have stopped. As a matter of fact, I feel not whole everywhere, and all the time,
which is why I have become so much of a recluse, except for your show and Dan Rather, I have no contact with the
outside world.
Sylvia was my everything. She was my companion, my entertainment, someone who listened to my boring stories, a
great mother, a great grandmother and when I could perform--an excellent, and the only lover I had ever been with. And if
I wouldn't have been so bullheaded, she would still be with me today. If I only would have given in and had that penile erectal
implant, she wouldstill be with me today, instead of that punk kid one-fourth of her age. If she would have only told me how
sexually unhappy she was with me, I could have done something, but now its too late. She finally found a lover who could
satisfy her, and left me to become a lonely, unhappy, rotting from the inside, living corpse.
Delilah, all I ask from you is to say my name to me on the air. It has been so long since I have heard another person say
my name to me, except for that nice man from Sprint who spent 4 hours listening to my problems, when all he wanted to do
was help me save over 30% on my long distance calling.
Sincerely,
J S Ranculesso