I saved every letter and card my mother ever sent to me from the time I went away to college, a sentimental gesture that I am especially grateful for as the years pass. Mom was such a great letter-writer; newsy, descriptive, funny, and loving. I happened upon a couple of letters that had been stuck in a photo album the other day, written while I was away living in Denton, working on my Master’s degree at the University of North Texas in the early nineties. I don’t remember what she was worried about at the doctor’s office, but she still wrote about it all with humor, and I loved reading about my brother Bud, now gone, too. These letters bring my mother vividly back to me; just seeing her handwriting evokes so many wonderful memories, and I can just hear her sweet voice making the words on each page come to life. Here is her letter postmarked October 29, 1991.
Well, here I sit in the Doctors waiting room waiting for the “axe” to fall. Ha. I have already devoured all of my finger nails in preparation for this hour.
This morning, of all things I got out and cleaned out the flowers and shrubs of weeds and raked most of the front yard.
This room is filling up fast and my throat is getting drier.
Bud called this morning and asked me to go to the big crime watch meeting in Tampa with him tomorrow night. We will ride in the little sports car. I told him to please put the top up. Of all things he asked me to be coordinator for Crime Watch in our area and told him I just can’t take on anything else, what with my market days and Choir and yard work, house work (If I would do it) and etc. Why do people always think I don’t have enough to do?
Am glad things are going pretty well for you all. I have been asking Dana about your watch; but I don’t want to make her mad. I hope this week??
Last night I went to sleep on the couch after I talked with you.; I had one leg hanging off the couch and I dreamed (I hope I dreamed) that this black rat ran across my foot. Anyway I screamed and jumped up and down after that. I looked all around but didn’t see anything. Course it could have been Leonard the Lizzard. While I was talking to Aunt Robbie the other night Leonard came peeping his head over the living room drapes. I told Robbie that not everyone could boarst of owning a pet lizzard.
I came in the other day and not only was Sandy (*Mom’s dog) in the living room but she jumped down off the couch. Now I don’t want to be on the couch.
You take care and I love you,
I laughed out loud reading about Leonard the Lizard and her insistence that my brother keep the convertible’s top up so that her hair wouldn’t get windblown- always a top priority. I’m going to make a point to read through more of these letters over the coming weeks. It seems that my mother can bring comfort to me even now, and always when I need it most. I am so grateful.