Time Travel through Old Letters

Yesterday I spent some time reading old letters from my dad and a diary my mom kept for the first two weeks she was in the hospital back in 1969.  It was just about 44 years ago that she passed away from cancer caused by asbestos in her lungs.  I hadn't ever before made it through the 20 or so pages of handwritten notes she left relating to her hospital stay and the nightmare of all the tests she went through.  Things have changed a lot in the last 44 years.  Today biopsy is a word everyone knows about, but it was new to her vocabulary back then.  It would not take two full weeks to reach the diagnosis of cancer today, either, given her symptoms and the speed with which test results are derived.

It was sobering to read about her nightmare experience in those first few weeks of hospitalization.  From Mid-July until the end of August when she passed away, there were very few days she was not in a hospital.  She was only 42 years old when she died, and that seems like entirely too short of a lifespan. She wrote at one point, "I am scared."  She then told herself it was pointless to fear, and she had hope it was something simple and easily cured.  I recall hearing that hers was only something like the 43rd case of asbestosis diagnosed in the US.

After that sobering experience I turned to some hand written letters from my dad.  He always had a way with words and re-reading that correspondence, some dating from 1977, was such a trip!  I laughed at his funny ideas and silly jokes.  He loved to laugh and make people laugh.  He fussed in every letter about how much he hated to write, yet I have several letters he sent to us through the years. I miss him. 

I suppose I miss my mom as well, although it is a different "missing." I was only nine when she died, and while I know my life would have been far different had she lived, I am grateful for all those who stepped in to make sure I grew up knowing beyond a shadow of doubt how much I was loved, especially my two sisters  who continue to bless my heart and life in little ways all the time.

In this day of electronic communications, it is hard to imagine how much we relied on those handwritten missives to keep us in touch with family and friends. Now I find it difficult to want to write to family members because we either text and talk on the phone regularly, or blog and email.  I rarely save emails for long periods, though, and had I not saved those letters from Dad, I might have forgotten some of his quirky ways and sayings.   It was obvious where I get some of my traits and preferences--obviously a product of environment and not genetics.

From time to time Ornery gets out the stash of cards and letters he has gotten from me through the years.  He somehow knew it would be good to keep them, but unfortunately I have only done so over the last few years.  I did come across a card he gave me after Elizabeth was born, 33 years ago tomorrow!  While we were washing dishes last night, we talked about how much I have always loved getting mail, and how I begged him to write to me during the few times we were apart in our dating days.  He has always been a man of few words, and I treasured every single word he ever penned because I knew how hard it was for him to write them. 

Aside from loving to find personal mail in the box addressed to ME, this little bit of history that I find in each letter is something that is important and treasured.  So, if you have loved ones afar off, I urge you to sit down today, grab a bit of paper and a favorite pen, and dust off those penmanship skills your fourth grade teacher laboriously attempted to teach you.  Share from your heart, share bits of your day, share your dreams and your disappointments, your fears and your victories. Because someday, those may be all your loved ones have, and they will be glad to have a tiny part of you to remember.