A Hilarious and Heartbreakingly Bittersweet Letter

December 22, 2011 6:44 am by Ebony in Bloggin'

I don’t often share aspects of my personal life on this blog that don’t directly affect my quilting, but sometimes the spirit moves me and I can’t help myself.

Today, I got a letter in the mail from my mom. At first, I thought she sent me the wrong letter, because it said, “Dear Mom,” at the top. But then, I noticed the date, and it was dated August XX, 19XX. The point of the letter?

It was a letter my mother composed to my grandmother, on the day of my 4th birthday. It was quite a chatty letter, but it starts off talking about the real china tea set that my grandmother sent to me, and how I wouldn’t put it down or play with it outside, because “Grandma doesn’t want me to play with my dishes outside because there might be an accident on the concrete.”

Since my mother wrote the letter, I won’t contradict her memory, but I must say I am impressed at the wisdom, insight, and articulation that I displayed at the age of four. It also gives a little glimpse into the fastidious adult that I would become (notwithstanding the careless teenager & 20-something in between.)

It also detailed my early propensity for bodily injury when I “broke” my arm skating, because my friends were holding my hands and wouldn’t let go when I started to fall. It’s amazing I still had my front teeth since I couldn’t break my own fall, but in an amazing twist of irony, I lost the adult ones only 4 years later when some idiot boy pushed me down an icy driveway because he wanted to watch me try to “skate.” If you’ve ever had the occasion to see my blinding-white smile & amazingly straight & flawless teeth, all I can say is… thousands and thousands of dollars, and years and years of reconstruction.

The letter also gave little glimpses of my mother at 26…

Working, and taking her lunch hour to go buy my birthday cake and ice cream & bring it to my school.

Selling her house (that had doubled in value in the four years she owned it), so she could afford to quit her job and start college.

Contemplating her own divorce, to be final on September 3rd, while her baby sister gets married 17 days later.

Musing about how the beauty of Boulder, Colorado would be very conducive to studying. (Meanwhile, I notice that she has misspelled “conducive”, and it makes me wonder if, at least some of the time while I was growing up, her “look it up in the dictionary” answer to my spelling questions were not merely lessons in self-sufficiency, but a smart way to avoid exposure as a bad speller to her child.)

Detailing out her plan for supporting us during the lean years of school; teaching twice a week, getting money from the VA (but losing even more money in benefits because of the divorce), getting money from the government’s Basic Educational Opportunity Grant, and a work-study job counseling women veterans.

Being so happy she could scream because her boss said that even though she was quitting, she would be welcome back anytime, but not before she got the degree.

Being gifted with an IBM Correcting Typewriter from that same boss as a going-away-to-school present. A typewriter!!!

Being “scared stiff of unemployment, but it’s a risk [she has] to take to improve [her] situation.”

Me sitting here in 2011… knowing that my mom did not finish her degree at that time. I don’t really know what happened, but I know she spent the next 14 years being a strong advocate for me and instilling the importance of education (even when I didn’t want to hear it) and making sure that I got exposed to the right opportunities to be able to attend an Ivy League university. She eventually did get her Bachelor’s degree, but it wasn’t until well after I’d left the house & got settled in my own right.

I don’t always get along with my mother (does anyone?) but I can appreciate and love the fierceness of her spirit and determination to make it, despite being a 26 year old divorcee with a terribly curious and accident-prone four year old on her hands. (And fastidious. Don’t forget fastidious.)

Anyway, I just wanted to share that, because it was so unexpected, and delightful, and heartbreaking all at the same time. I wonder what other letters she’s got? Maybe the one I wrote to her at 13 years old, making an impassioned plea to allow me to convert to LDS membership…

So… I’ll bet you can’t top THAT as a Christmas present.