When our parents died, my sister and I kept many of their personal items; we divided up family heirlooms, knick knacks, books, photos and letters.
Some of the things I brought home with me have been incorporated into my own, such as their Christmas tree ornaments, which now adorn my tree. Many items have been donated after realizing I didn’t need or want them and some have simply tucked away until I’m ready to look at them or have a house big enough in which I can display them properly.
While rummaging through a closet in our loft last week, I found a stack of letters my father had written to my mother.
How ironic that that very day for Fat Mum Slim’s Photo of the Day for July, the topic was “letters”. I grabbed them, took a photo and posted it on Instagram with the following message:
A handful of letters my father wrote my mother. I haven’t been able to read them because the sight of my father’s handwriting is almost too much to bear.
I meant every word.
Seeing his handwriting is hard.
Harder than I ever could have imagined.
Plus, these aren’t my letters so I’m not even certain I should read them.
On one hand, it’s tantalizing to read something addressed to someone else knowing it was never meant for my eyes and on the other, I wonder what clues they can provide about my mother and father’s relationship and do I really want to know? They were written a long time ago, back before my parents were married.
For now I’ve decided they will stay tucked safely in the closet.
Within the stack, there were also a few other letters; letters my grandmother had written her daughter, letters my other grandmother had written her soon to be daughter-in-law, letters my aunt had written her soon to be sister-in-law and a notepad. Clearly these were precious to my mother, stacked and kept together with a piece of red string.
The note pad was the most intriguing. Inside I discovered mostly blank pages until the very back where there were six handwritten pages.
Both sides.
Page one begins: “It all started…”
With those three words my heart skipped a beat as I foolishly believed I was about to gain some insight into my mother’s young mind and personality.
She refers to wanting to “this to be her story” and a “manuscript”. It seems she was attempting to document her life.
Growing up, I did not have the type of relationship with my mother that I had hoped for. She was distant and indifferent and I was always searching for ways for us to be closer. Could these six pages hold the secrets to my mother or a special message just for me?
In the end, the pages held no clues and were nothing more than a school girl’s account of a family that moved around a lot. Clearly this was just the beginning of something she had intended to write and share someday.
Once again I had learned nothing of any great significance about the woman that raised me and as so many times before was left with an incredible amount of sadness and disappointment.
How can a person no longer here still make me feel this way?
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I can’t even begin to imagine the emotions going through you as you found these writings. I can’t offer any answers to your question – just hope that one day, you may understand a little more of the woman who so clearly left a hole in your life with her passing. xo
I’m so sorry you didn’t find any solace or understanding in her words.
This was one of the sadder posts that I’ve read of yours lately… I’m sorry that you didn’t find any answers that you were looking for and that seeing something of your father’s, in this case his hand writing, is so difficult for you.
I’d like to say that as time passes so do some of those feelings but I’m not sure that it’s really true.
I do hope that one day you find the answers that you are looking for though.
I’m sad that that you have all these pending questions about your Mom. Hopefully, with time, you’ll understand her a little better.
I don’t know what you’ll decide about the letters, but I’m happy you have them. They are so precious.
Sending you hugs xoxo
Tanya, I feel for you. To see the handwriting and know there are words on significance inside those envelops is heart-wrenching. When it is the right time, you will know what to do and if you do read the letters, they will be poignant and may provide knowledge and comfort. There are so many things we all want to know about our parents, their relationships with family and friends, significant and not so significant events—-so many unanswered questions for all of us. Blessings to you and Leah as you face each day with your memories and the decisions you have to make for the past and the future. I read the entry on the water problem, too, and hope you can get that sorted out in short order.
Oh Tonya, I’m so sorry, I just want to hug you. I feel like you do when I see my dad’s handwriting, if I find a card he sent to me or a note he wrote, my stomach just drops. I can’t imagine having a whole stack of letters with his words right there. I don’t know what I’d do either.
Plus you lost both of them, the people who started to WRITE your story..who gave you life are gone and that’s so hard. I am always thinking of you…but right now, even more. I hope someday you get some of the answers you need.
love you.
xo
I’m sorry you weren’t able to get anything out of those 6 pages. I have no idea how you can hold on to those letters without reading them. I don’t think I have that kind of control.
It’s like she wanted to blog…huh. and you ARE doing just that. Imagine how wonderful all these words will be to him someday.
sigh.
I’m sorry friend.
I’m sorry you didn’t find answers in those pages.
I have a stack of cards my family has given to me over the years. In it are notes from my grandfather who has since passed away. Like you, I can’t read them now. Seeing his handwriting is too hard. It brings so many emotions to the surface.
I have a huge envelope of dad’s and mom’s letters too! Wow, there are so much evidently. I have honestly read a few and they left me with several frustrating questions that I have stopped since then. That was a couple years ago that I thought by reading them I would gain some insight into mom and dad’s relationship before you and i were around. Now, I look at them from time to time just for comfort..I don’t read the words but rather the handwriting. It’s like my own proof of their existence. Sometimes (and I know its silly) I need that.