Monday, December 5, 2011
Letters with meaning
I've decided that I may need to write some letters. In certain situations, I'm not very good one on one, and it seems the people I have to write to don't care to do the one on one with me.
Every family is held together by love, but happens when love is not enough? I always thought love was strong enough to hold everything together, but it is not. The alternative that I'm not loved anymore is too painful. I rather change my theory, or I'll be crying more than a river.
Writing a letter that conveys how you truly feel is hard. First rule is that it should be done by hand. Neat legible handwriting shows that you have put a lot of effort. I've cried writing letters before and left tear drops as stains, I have to be careful while writing these.
Words can hurt longer than a slap. When you write something be certain that it will be re-read, maybe shared for others to give their opinion.
While in the attic twice these last few weeks I came upon a pile of letters. Letters sent to me, cards from my family, notes from my kids. Amazing find. I am so glad I keep everything. By the end of the day, I had a ton of bags full of useless papers, school stuff from the kids, old books from classes that I took, and just crap that I'm not sure why I saved. The letters were saved. I cried like a sad puppy while I read card after card from my brothers when they were younger and letters from my grandma who passed in 2001. The words people put on paper can make you or break you. Especially if you care about that person. I found the one and only letter my husband ever wrote me. It was not a love letter, but it had a lot of love in it. It was written when I was pregnant in 1992, before I lost the baby. He ended with lots of love to me and a kiss to be placed in my tummy for the baby. He was in South America and I was here with my family. I read that letter and realized how much that man really loved me. I didn't dare ask him to read it and confirm that he still loves me that much. Two pretty healthy kids later, we are not the same people we were then. I do think I loved him a lot then, but more now. Love grows or it dies. It can never stay the same. That was my grand enlightenment!