The first, and perhaps most prized letter I tend to go back to is one from Gampi. It was written from Long Boat Key, Fl on March 26th, 1992. The letter talks about the beach and a pelican and how he when he gets home I'll teach him to do cartwheels and handstands. He was the only grandfather I've had and a wonderful man. I only with I could have known him longer. He passed away in peace at home, though in a hospital bed with a morphine drip supplied by my mother. He'd contracted Hepatitis C due to a blood transfusion that he didn't need after a cardiac surgery years before. None of this really contributes the quality of his character though. He was a man that if someone needed something done would be there, even if just to screw in a knob for a drawer. A favorite story of my mother's regarding him was when he drove out onto LSD to pick her up in the middle of the past most famous Chicago Blizzard when she was about 20. Cars were stuck then just as they were this year, except that year there were more fatalities.
My favorite memory was when he came to pick my sister and myself up from school in his big old conversion van one afternoon. Now he often did just this but this day was different, and we weren't expecting him. My sister, Courtney, and I always fought over who got the front. Usually he would intervene but this day he didn't and Courtney won out. Chances are it was a race to the van when we saw him pull into the parking lot, I think that's how it usually went. So I begrudgingly got into the back seat while Gampi chuckled at my disappointment. However, in the back seat I saw a large cardboard box and inside that box a Sheltie puppy. I was elated, on cloud nine, couldn't have asked for a better afternoon. This pup was soon dubbed Duke and if you thought a child loved going to their grandparents house before, well after this that was the only place I ever wanted to go. I adored dog for quite some time.
Gampi was self made man, hard working, successful, and artist, a photographer, and animal lover, a dreamer, a prankster, a ketchup lover, a migrator (yes Florida in the winter) a friend and neighbor, an honest businessman, a father, a grandfather, an explorer, a reader, just someone who lived every day God gave him to the fullest even up until his last. Him and my grandmother were always quite the pair. They were two people who knew how to live life right. I hope have half the joy and zest for life he had, liver failure and all.
The second letter I came across that really struck me this evening is one from sister, sent with a birthday gift my freshman year of college. Of course everyone is a little homesick their freshman year and birthdays are a little lonely when you've only been at school 500 miles from home for two weeks and your day happens to come. So this letter was very welcome, though perhaps worsened some of the homesickness. For the life of me I can't remember what all came with it, but I suppose that indicates where value in life lies, not necessarily with "things". This was a remember when note. A few bullets from it. Dear S'more, Remember when... "We went and played under the bridge by the creek" "We used to try to hide from Kelly Flanigan... always to no avail in the end" "We made a fashion show in the basement" "We played dream phone until we had to photocopy the sheets because we used them all up" "Everyone used to argue because no one wanted to put the lane lines in" "we used to play ninento over and over and over" "We made a lemonade stand on the golf course" "Caroline and Katy wanted s'mores and Amy and Courtney wanted oreos, so we split into 2 camp and were forever more s'mores and oreos" She ends her letter with encouraging me to think of more and send them her way. I regret to say I don't think I ever did this but better late than never.
Oreo, Remember when we got welts on our legs from running through the golf course sprinklers? Remember when we used to sled down our driveway and go airborne over the slow plow ice? Remember when you used to paint our nails with tinker bell nail polish and days mom was going shopping so we'd be occupied picking it off the whole time she was trying on clothes? Remember when we would ride out bikes to the Trolley barn for lunch and then the creamery for dessert? Remember when it used to take me 30 minutes to eat a small vanilla ice cream cone? Remember calling a special someone "Dudah" and then all of a sudden we started to get in big trouble it?" Remember when we had two fish that always got ick? Remember tweets...? Remember having to wake up at sunrise to go out on the boat, and then eat lunch on the boat, and then stay on the boat all day because we had to get every minutes worth of time out of it? Remember helmet girl (goodness what was here name, Tess? Tara?..?) in our Ski school class at Boyne every year? Just a few things for memory's sake :)
Goodness I'm sappy this evening. Not sure where that all came from
A third letter of note for the evening comes from one of my old roommates mothers of all people, Mrs. Leila Mischer. Now most people here don't know Leila, if you did you'd understand the extra charm it adds to the letter. Now my own mother also has a tendency of writing a monthly note her three children (though these have been lacking recently... hmmmm) that I value but this note came out of the blue. Mrs. Mischer has by no means been a stranger to me since the summer before jr year of college. I was moving into a house her daughter, Morgan Jane, and another friend of ours Maria Cowley. So Leila came up to Memphis early to help buy some things for the house to check everything out. While she was there I was about to take a final in 1 of 2 Physics courses I was taking over the summer as well in the middle of a lot of lab work and still volunteering. Typical pre med student... Thus my first encounter with Leila rushing through Target and Bed Bath and Beyond and Macy's and you name it. Throughout the following two years i saw her on and off as she was traveling through Memphis, or at Rhodes to see a field hockey game, or graduation. I also spent some time at the Mischer house in Houston for Morgan Jane's debutant ball. Mrs. Mischer is without a doubt the most gracious hostess I have ever met. This was again reinforced after a stay at their house in near Vail. Well, this specific letter came after a dinner I'd shared with her, Morgan Jane, and another roommate (Katie) and her boyfriend at the time. This evening I was a little frustrated because I'd also been asked to invite a guest to dinner and he refused to come. Nothing out of the ordinary, but as always disappointing. This was Senior year and we were all talking plans for the next year. I was at the time undecided about what institution and what type of medicine I'd be attending / learning the starting the coming August. I don't remember all that much more about the dinner but it was lovely, good company, lots of laughs, and absolutely wonderful food. For those of you in Memphis we were at BlueFin in Cooper Young. I can't believe it was the first time, and only time, I was there. In the mail a few weeks later I received a letter receiving encouraging advice from Leila. The letter started out saying she hoped she wasn't presumptuous about writing. No, I didn't think so at all. Her advice was regarding means of navigating through life at times of change. "If whatever you are reflecting on gives you a sense of life, fullness, positive anticipation, or excitement - or a sense of expansion- pay attention to it! That could very well be an indication of a direction that would be good for you. On the other hand if a decision, experience and person ect gives you a sense of constriction, of low energy, of deflation - pay attention to that too. The world can be so complicated but if we can stay in touch with who we are - our truth - which we experience through our bodies then I think one has a great chance of living the life that is uniquely theirs to live. The one only that only YOU can fill" Now she closes the letter with my favorite part "You are pretty and you are very smart and you have a wonderful personality. you have all you need" ok j/k not my favorite but always nice to hear or, more specifically, read :) Sometimes words like that from an unlikely source are more encouraging than those from someone close to you who you might regularly hear similar things from.
I could go on and on with letters and with my feelings about the lack of letters that are now written but I realize 1. its getting late 2. This is long and last and least significantly 3. chances are no one had read this far.
But as a final note what I've learned from my years of collecting letters, and writing many is the written word is profound. That sounds cliche but it's true. Thought definitely goes into speech. I've learned all the neuro pathways that prove that. But I believe more thought goes into the deliberate writing of language and subsequent deliverance. Whether it's pressing send on an email or sealing an envelope you can't take back what you've written. Do I wish I could take back some things I've put in ink (or on a computer screen), well yes. But at the same time I don't regret the unfortunate verbiage that's been used. I've learned from it, and learning is one of the best things about actions / reactions and all experiences in life. Besides, when it comes to letters, even without all the frills of calligraphy print and sealing wax and embossed cards; a simple letter or card is one of the most delightful things to find in your mailbox on any given afternoon.
