Monday February 16, 2009
My friend Anita just gave me the most wonderful gift.
For years after she moved to Ireland we corresponded by snail mail. Every Monday I could expect to get the long, six to eight page letter she’d written the week before. Mine often didn’t get to her house til Tuesday because the mail was slower going that direction.
Over time, we quit and resorted to emails and an occasional phone call. Looking back, I’m still surprised how long we kept it up.
About two years ago I gave Anita her old letters. Yesterday she gave me mine. I was almost shivering when I untied the plastic grocery bag stacked full of pages and pages and pages of letters neatly folded together. Did I really want to see them? Would I be embarrassed beyond words? WHAT had I ever found to write about that required four pages chock full on both sides every week?
I’ve only been through about six letters, but so far I’m roaring with laughter more then dying of embarrassment. I forgot just what life was like back then. I keep wishing for a college course again. Something to stimulate my childcare inundated brain to clear the cobwebs. I wish I had to study for something. But I forgot how intense those years were. Every day and half the night sometimes was filled to the brim with enormous amounts of facts to memorize, difficult concepts, long papers to write and deadlines. Always deadlines. Tests. Papers. More papers. More tests.
I love these long handwritten letters with all the descriptive phrases and well-composed sentences. I’m hopelessly old fashioned. I can’t seem to fall in love with facebook. I actually miss sitting at the table and handwriting stuff. Hard to believe that when I first started college I had to write my papers at the table and then type them because I “couldn’t think on the computer.” It just wouldn’t come.
I love finding phrases like “poverty of thought.” It reminds me that at one point in my life, I actually spoke English instead of “preshoolerese.”
I love remembering what my schedule was really like. It makes me realize that even though this time of my life feels incredibly demanding, my life has mostly always been that way.
I love reading about the huge emotional and intellectual issues of the time that now seem paltry. It reminds me that the things I am wallowing around in now will someday look manageable. There are answers, sometimes they are just long in coming.
And best of all, I love the last sentence on the letter I just read. “Such is life. At least I’m not a housewife.” Proof that you can learn to love almost anything.
Great post!! I love the next to last paragraph. Even tho, it’s hard to imagine right now, I’m sure someday I will look back and say, “Life was so much easier when the kids were all little…”
It’s a great reminder for me to enjoy life where I am right now instead of always wishing for the future. Your pictures are darling as always. I love the last one of your Mom & Liam, so cute!!
oh how I love to write a snail mail letter!!!! I love a fresh clean tablet or sheet of ruled paper and just writing and writing… altho I am enjoying facebook too since most of my friends don’t feel quite like I do. I am still in 2 circle letters that have gone on for years and I wonder how long they will…. they are a high light to me to get.
Oh try writing your boyfriend and then getting those letters out later. Uh-hum! Embarrasing is right. 🙂
Now that sounds like fun! I think back sometimes and wonder what on earth I would’ve written about! These days I could write a book on stuff that happens around here. =) For some reason I like reading my old stuff sometimes. I think I have some diaries stuck away somewhere, but not just anyone could read those. =)
Love all the pictures, as always!
Just this morning I found one of the first letters I wrote to Steve. And I could not make myself read it. Cheesy couples are a trial for me to be around and I was afraid I’d have to admit that I used to be like that too!
Liam grew up a lot in the last 2 months! He’s adorable!
Michelle,
Sometimes I find myself mourning the loss of my “other life”. I still haven’t figured out whether or not this ok.
Every time I read the first letter I wrote to John, I nearly faint of embarresment. On the other hand, I feel a great sense of guilt, at my amazement of the 10 pages I wrote. To have that passion back…without the cheesiness please…..
Great post, Michelle! I enjoyed the pictures, too, and want to do it all over again.
“At least I’m not a housewife,” Ha! Ha!
What a great post! Now you know why I was laughing as I read them, and you thought I was being disrespectful or something. =)
Call me sometime!