We miss the archives, those bundles of letters wrapped in a ribbon, letters which have been read and re-read, kissed and kept. I have a dozen books of collections of letters on my shelf. More precious yet, thanks to my brother Jim (the doctor, artist, travel expert, gentleman farmer, and the dear one who taught me how to tie my shoelaces-Happy Birthday, btw) who made copies of every letter, I have the correspondence of my mom to my dad during the three years they were separated by work circumstances.
Now that I have just signed up for the 100-Species-Challenge, after I have been re-juiced about Fine Art Friday, am gaining some regularity in walking, in addition to adding a 40 hour work schedule for the next two weeks, and remembering my vow to finish my ironing pile, a most wonderful blogging idea has struck me brain:
I will fall in love all over again with the most marvelous woman I ever knew.
A mother of seven, functioning as a single mom, scraping the bottom of the barrel with a laugh on her lips, while her husband teaches at a college two hours away. Some stuff simply amazes me: I believe they owned about five junker cars with never more than two working at one time. The letters report which car my dad would need to repair on his next trip home. She was articulate and full of grace, and the anecdotes about the kids’ shenanigans are always related with wry humor.
Will it translate to today? Will her words build up? Will it make me cry? Will it inspire me–to trust God more, to work harder, to laugh louder? Will it be a gift to my grandchildren? Will it make me thankful?
A thousand times yes…