Memory lane - Part IV

Read from Part 1

Somewhere (almost 30 years) deep in a landfill is a box of letters. Well, I doubt there is much left of them after all this time. This was about a year's worth of correspondence from the boyfriend of my senior year in high school.

Those were the days before email and before unlimited long distance calling plans. He was in college over 400 miles away most of that year. When he wasn't, he was only 300 miles away at home. It was a lovely time in my life, and I loved our correspondence - long, newsy, sweet letters, about one for each week. Plus cards for special occasions.

I treasured those, so much so that I pulled them out to read daily for months after he broke up with me. Then I realized I had to let go. I knew I was in danger of never recovering from that breakup unless those letters were gone. It took a couple of attempts before I could finally let the garbage truck take them away.

Fast-forward to a few weeks ago, when I started packing for my move. I started in what I knew would be the the most difficult spot - a little oriental cabinet where the last of the Daniel memorabilia had resided undisturbed since my last move. It was finally time to say goodbye to most of that.

First, I read through every sympathy card. Many tears, a few laughs and a couple of who is that?s later and I was done. The only thing left from that pile is a note from my brother, a man of few words who wrote that tears "wash the soul clean and make our hearts open to life's joy". I wouldn't part with that piece of paper ever.

But then there were the letters...my letters to Daniel during our friendship and courtship, and his to me. Not a whole lot of them, as he was not much of a writer so I didn't write much either. Re-reading my letters to him was like looking at a history book of me - my feelings, my hopes, my busy days - in my own hand. The fact that he used the back of one to calculate how much outside lighting would cost to run for an hour (37 cents) doesn't make me think he didn't treasure that letter. He kept it, didn't he?

But it is time to say goodbye to those letters as well. He's been gone almost as long as we were married. And moving on is what this year seems to be all about for me.

My mother didn't have many opportunities to give me advice. One thing I clearly remember her telling me is to be very careful what I put in a letter, because you never know where it will end up. That was good advice. But I am so glad I never let her words prevent me from expressing my true feelings on the page to the people I loved. For me, writing is still sometimes easier than verbal expression.

My memories of Daniel are fading, and that is alright. We can't live in our memories, even the good ones. We have to live in the present. And when we do, today becomes a memory for tomorrow.

Memory lane - Part III

Read from Part I

I have been promising my hair stylist that I would create a "Gallery of Hair" for her, and I want to do it before I move out of state. So here it is:

Ladies, if you're thinking that once you grow up you will finally stop stressing about your hair, forget about it. Even now, at the ripe old age of 47, I'm thinking of growing it long again. Or getting a natural salt-n-peppa buzz cut (my friend Lisa and my other friend Lisa would kill me).

Depends on how I'm feeling tomorrow.

continued

Memory lane - Part II

Read Part I

I have only been hospitalized twice in my life. First was being born, then when I had my tonsils removed at age six. A lot has changed since then.

Prices, for one thing. My mother's hospital stay for my birth cost $26 per day. The total for four days including the operating room, anesthesia and drugs - $151.92.

For my tonsils surgery six years later, the doctor charged $150 and the hospital (with lab, x-rays, drugs and the room) charged $134. Oh, plus $35 for anethesia.

And keeping patient records was a little different than today. My first few months of doctor visits were recorded on one index card by hand. The receipts were hand-written also, but the doctor bills were typed. And that four-day hospital stay when I was born...that is unheard of today as insurance companies want you out as quickly as possible.

It is an interesting experience to hold these things in my hands.

continued

Memory lane - Part I

I used to have this recurring dream, that I'm back in high school (at my present age) because I never really graduated. Well, I have in my hands (not really in my hands because I wouldn't be able to type) my high school diploma. Now they can't make me go back!

As I keep going through my things to get rid of stuff that I refuse to move even one more time, I'm scanning pictures and papers that I want to keep and tossing the originals. Lots of dust, lots of laughs, lots of tears, lots of closure coming my way. And a lot of trivial crap that nobody cares about.

Like this - according to my grade school report cards...

- I was unable to tie my shoes by the end of kindergarten, but I could recognize what color they were.
- I had no special abilities noted from 1966 to 1968 (bummer).
- I was a "back captain" (what??), a "paper" monitor (news, construction, toilet? not sure), and in charge of the Halloween Talent Show in 1970.
- I was an "office girl" in 1974. Wow...I found my career at age 14.
- And last, but not least, my very favorite encouraging comment from a teacher on a report card...

Seems my fate was sealed decades ago. Who knew?

Tune in tomorrow...that's when I go through my medical records!

continued

Photo shoppe

After taking a two-hour nap this afternoon, I woke up with a start and realized I had a really cool project I could work on. I am moving in a couple of months (don't know where...and that's a story for another post), and I am still decades behind in my scrapbooking. I'll never catch up, and I don't want to move this huge box of photos AGAIN.

So I spent the evening organizing, scanning, and tossing. I've backed them up. Now I can share a couple of the gems:

As a bridesmaid in 1980. My favorite hairstyle, but not my favorite dress.

My favorite Halloween costume. I actually travelled on a Chicago city bus wearing this!

My favorite cats-eye glasses. And my least favorite haircut ever.

Only a few thousand more pictures to go.