1982

I have been moving some of my "personal papers" upstairs. Of course, I can rarely keep from sneaking a peek at the notebooks where I have stored letters, and copies of letters I've written, and cards. I have years where they're very organized and years of them that I need to do. That's what's in all those boxes of "personal papers" upstairs.

Tonight the notebook I pulled down is from 1982. Was that really 25 years ago? Amazingly enough, it was. The first page I opened to was a letter from my mother that was postmarked June 3, so almost exactly 25 years ago.



I wrote Mama regularly at times, and talked to her often. She also wrote me often, even though she would have said she hated to write. Then we would go through periods where we didn't write often, but talked more. Over the years it varied, but I'm so glad we did exchange letters.

The letters are filled with the minutia of daily living - nothing overly exciting in and of itself, but a chronicle of lives nonetheless.That's why I have always kept letters from everyone.



Mama did not like to write much and wrote quickly, without much regard for spelling or grammar. But I always loved getting a letter from her. This letter was not from that envelope, but from the same time period.

This was before I was keeping copies of the letters I wrote, unfortunately, but there are many letters from mama and from friends in this notebook. Some friends are still in my world - Evelyn's program for her senior recital is in this notebook. Others are no longer in my life, but none of the people represented in this book are ones I wouldn't love to hear from at any moment.

There are some people represented here that I long to connect with again.

Some notes are what you'd expect from a fellow college student...



Also a letter from a favorite professor who had moved on to another college...



There were letters from a friend I dearly miss - who I long to connect with again. I hope one day she will show up in my life again.



It has been interesting, peeking back at my own life as if it was someone else living it. Those were days of difficulty in many ways, and yet I was on the verge of something amazing that I didn't even know was around the corner. I guess that's how life always is in retrospect.