Thursday - 8/27/2009 Letters

It seems an old customer but to receive a letter, an actual hand written letter is powerful.

While in school a letter sent home can signal a problem. I remember a letter being sent home as early as 3rd grade. I never knew what that letter said and I don’t remember what happened in the aftermath, but I do know it caused conflict. All that aside, it also became part of my “permanent record”. My gosh was that not held over our little heads enough during the golden years of grade and high school? I wonder if our “permanent records are still stored someplace. My 30th high school reunion is this fall. Maybe school districts should present you with your records at this milestone event. Wow, I’d rest so much easier knowing those records were…sealed and with me.

A few yours ago my husband found some old letters in a house owned by his grandmother. I need to set the stage. The first time I met this intriguing lady, she meet us in her drive way with a gun at her hip. She wasn’t sure who was driving up her driveway and brought out the gun for protection. Once she recognized my husband, she was thrilled, but the gun never came off her hip. As she stated, “I don’t know that girl”. Grandma lived in an old farm house in the UP of Michigan. I grew to love this ornery old Finlander and I believe she loved me. It was not in Grandma to verbalize her love for her grandchildren. At least I have no memory of her showing many outward signs of endearment. But my husband found these letters long after Grandma passed someplace in her house. The house had been turned in to the family hunt cabin. The letters were mainly news of church events, crop updates and birth and death details. One set of letters was clearly saved because of its passion. The letters were detailed accounts of a series of rendezvous happening between what we suspect were 2 seventeen year olds. The secret meetings took place in barns, orchards or grain bins. The 2 lovers met late at night…talked about their hopes and dreams and dared to dream of a future, together. The passion rose in their verbal exchanges but never more physically than a kiss on the cheek. My husband and I started using their personas in daily notes. We kept a notebook on our counter and added our feelings at will. At this time we were working opposite shifts and saw each other either sleeping or on the weekends. We agreed that there could be no discussions in theses notes about bills or issues. We could only express our love to each other. We could never make any references to sex. It’s amazing how many ways you can say I love you or I care when your focus on how you will truly make the other feel. We continued this practice for about 3 months and I treasure these notebooks. I loved that we continued to make it a practice to say the things we had been writing in the books, to each other, every day. Aside from these books of notes, my husband sent me an e-mail every work day for the past 4 years. It always began with “Good Morning Sunshine”. The e-mail would contain stuff about work or what his day held. During a portion of this time, my husband and I lived 600 miles apart. The e-mail was then answered when I woke up. We were in different time zones but it made me feel as if we were waking up in the same home.


I received so many cards and notes since he died. I’ve written many thank you notes but I’m ashamed to say, I have not written them all. I find it’s very hard to write a note and it not be to him. I do know that these cards from those who loved us are a tribute and deserve thanks. I’m just not at a place yet that will allow me to complete this task in peace. One letter I received stands out from the rest. It doesn’t out weight the rest nor is it anymore appreciated. It’s just stands out. It was written by a former co-worker of mine and a man I will always call my friend, regardless of the length of time since our last correspondence. The letter, yes a letter, was a three page hand written tribute to love and loss. My friend had met my family and I his. We both have deep passion for our spouses and hold tight to our friendships. When the letter arrived a few weeks after my husband passed, I was so overwhelmed I had to sit down on the floor in my kitchen in order to be able to finish reading it. The letter contains a quote from Rabbi Marc Gellman... “It is deep and raw and shattering to our expectations that we will never be separated from those we love. Give thanks for the pain you feel, because the pain is a measure of your love. Your grief is the way that gift of unconditional love is painfully, but properly repaid”. The letter and well as all the cards and notes mean the world to me, as do those that sent them. I will do all I can to acknowledge them all. I will know when the time is right. I’ll get through them and make the senders understand the power of their cards and loving notes. I will re-read each one. I’m sure there will be new meaning to many of them as well as new tears. I will remember that these cards, notes and letters represent love everlasting.

I hope so.