Many people have had mammoth influence on my life over the past forty years, but the two people who come to my heart and mind first as having had the greatest impact and influence on me are my son and my mother. Unfortuantely, my mother passed away last year, so I'll pass the title on to another person who is right up there with her, my husband, Ken, who has impaled me with prodigious influence.It was easy for me to decide who would be the recipient of an email and who would receive a hand-written letter. My son, a fairly typical, lazy 15 year old, would probably not find the need or ambition to open a letter written with paper and pen unless the return address shown that of Sarah Michele Geller or Hayden Panitiere. That was a no-brainer! Whereas, my husband and I often wrote letters, poems, and notes to each other early on in our marriage, so I thought it might add a little spark to what's become an undeniably nice, comfortable relationship of two best friends destined to be together forever.
The email to my son required little to no thought; the moment I started typing, the words simply poured onto the computer monitor without hesitation or strain of thought. As the words spilled, tears clouded my eyes and dampened my busy fingers. My words of gratitude intertwined within pages and pages of memories and hopes for his future. I thanked him for giving me meaning and purpose when I didn't know I had none. I thanked him for teaching me so much more than I could ever dream of teaching him. I begged him not to be like me, and to always remember the world is his to do with what he chooses; his opportunities are unending and his dreams are boundless. I typed for what seemed like minutes, to find more than an hour had passed when felt I had thoroughly conveyed my feelings and gratitude.
The following day, I began the letter to my husband only to find it didn't pour from within as easily as the letter to my son. I knew what I wanted to say and I knew I had a plethora of things to thank him for, but I had some difficulty writing the words on paper. First and foremost, I hesitated not because of a lack of thoughts running through my head, but because of fear of writing something I would need to rewrite, add, or omit. This was not going to be simple so I replaced my pen and sationary with a pencil and legal pad, knowing full well I would be drafting, erasing, ripping, crossing out, and most likely shredding several versions before satisfaction would allow me to transfer my hand-written thoughts to the pretty yellow stationary with sunflowers and wrinkley, cuddly bull dogs in my desk. As I pondered the assignment and began outlinging what I wanted to thank my husband for, I questioned why I felt not the need to outline my son's letter. I determined my email needed no formal outline because my typical routine when typing an email, paper or letter is to list topics or subjects I think of beneath my text so when I feel my project is complete, I can scan through the document to the list to be sure I haven't missed anything; this works for me much like an outline. It took less than ten minutes to put together an outline, and from there, I progressed onward to the penciled draft. Writing, to me, is a mental release which I truly love, and which also works like therapy - writing is my way of talking things out with myself rather than boring my friends with the crazy details of my not-so-dysfunctional life. As anticipated, I wrote and erased...I scribbled and corrected...I crumpled and I unfolded...basically, I'd forgotten how to write pen to paper. My draft took almost two and a half hours to complete and was followed by three final drafts (if it's not written neatly enough, I start over) which transformed into only one page of thanks to my ever-wonderful husband. I thanked him for his patience and understanding, and I thanked him for his unending love and devotion to me and our children. He has brought out the best in me over the years.
The response I received from my self-absorbed fifteen year old wasn't quite as self-absorbed as I anticipated. While I expected a responsive email asking if this was also for my cyber comm class, what I got was a "real" hug and a shy, goofy smile, followed by a "I love you too, mom." This was more than I expected and all I needed.
My husband's response involved more depth, as he took the time to leave me a three-page, hand-written thank you on notebook paper. While his didn't come on fancy stationary and was far from organized or neat, it hit home and made my heart skip a beat. Maybe my compulsive neatness is over-rated...? He thanked me for things I felt had no meaning or great significance. Apparently, it is the little things that make up the important pieces of what make us whole...a family.
All in all, this experience was one I wouldn't trade. Yeah, the idea behind the assignment was to understand and appreciate what we have now versus the simple letter of the past. I get that, but what came from this thought-provoking lesson was an appreciation of those around us, around me, and ourselves, myself...as well as utter appreciation for a good keyboard!!
2 comments:
Dawn, I have thoroughly enjoyed your Blog about the letters. I can identify with your experience quite easily. I found we had several connections. My mother also passed away this last year. I share in your grief. Mine is recent; Christmas morning. I also wrote my husband using snail mail format. It was the same odyssey for me that you experienced. I had trouble formulating the words, doing it neatly and organized. I understand about the taking time to complete it. I chose my husband because I knew he would answer me and it sounds like you knew the same. It made it a guarantee success. I was touched by your son’s response. Both letters are a treasure to hold dear to your heart.
It is amazing how the time can fly when we articulate or whatever it is called on the computer. Maybe it is because we are trained and skilled in that style now and have lost our skills at hand writing. Whatever the reason, I identify with your response. It was the same for me. Another thing I want to add to your Blog is that because we are on the back page of the list, I don’t think people will write much on our Blogs. Do not despair. There is hope. I for one, refuse to do the easy front page first. I am checking the Blogs on the last page first. If they all write as well as you did, I wouldn’t miss it for the world; very nicely done.
Your son sounds just like my younger brother, who is also 15. I write him often on his Myspace, but he rarely acknowledges my messages in real life like your son did. It sounded very sweet, I know exactly the shy, slightly embarrassed smile that 15 year olds get that you're talking about!
I hadn't even thought in my blog to bring up how much more difficult it is to write pen to paper than fingers to keyboard until you mentioned that you had to draft your letter several times before writing it on your stationary. I, like you, also will start over if I mess up, otherwise it bothers me too much and I can't even finish the letter. Your post also made me think about how much the meaning of the message effects the emotional content and facility of writing.
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