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Saturday, November 28, 2009

December.

My mom's address book sits here on the dining room table. I'm helping my dad with a little project and while I have yet to get started on it, I've flipped the pages of the address book two or three times now.

It's not the people listed that I'm curious about, it's not who she sent cards to or who sent cards back that matters. It's the methodical shape of the letters.

As a child I saw her writing and viewed it as the epitome of "mom" writing. Never sloppy. Always perfect. Whether cursive or printing it always fell in a straight line, each letter exactly as it should be on the paper.

There was a never a rushed look or feeling to it even if I saw her scribble the words down quickly.

I page through the book and I see each and every name and address listed perfectly in it's space. White out to make the changes when friends have moved, or names added as family expanded.

In the back, twelve pages for dates to remember, one for each month, birthdays, anniversaries and then a few key notes to my dad. Things I know she wrote near the end but not near enough that her writing was blurred yet.

There are just a few spots where you can see in the shape of a letter or a number, her pen didn't hit the paper just right and the combination of the cancer and the treatment make it look looser and less together than she'd ever been.

But few and far between are those.

I think of her sitting two years ago now paging through making sure each and everyone of her loved ones receives one last Christmas card.

Just weeks. Days.

Before the end.

And on the last page, just before the cover, the last month of the year, December.

There on the page amidst all the other December birthdays and anniversaries is one addition in what one can only call my dad's best writing. Miss E.

Making what would maybe seem like something sad and full of reminders of a loss, a reason to smile.

9 Comments:

Blogger Rodman Life said...

This is very touching S. Beautiful.

November 28, 2009 at 11:15 PM  
Blogger Stephanie said...

Wow - this is beautiful! Reminds me to cherish every moment with my mom. Thanks for sharing!

I'm looking forward to getting to know you more here and at Cupcake '10.

November 29, 2009 at 5:03 AM  
Blogger The Petersons said...

What a beautiful post--it brought tears to my eyes!

November 29, 2009 at 9:10 AM  
Blogger GMS said...

It reminds me that in this technological age of emails, word documents and blogging, to remember to take the time to write notes and letters occasionally. When I was making my son's scrapbook for a graduation present, I intentionally wrote by hand on some pages in addition to using computer generated text in the book. There is just something about knowing that someone's hand brushed across that very spot as they penned the words year ago. It's a forever thing.

November 29, 2009 at 8:53 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I often read her letters that she wrote to me,I feel as though she is with me when I do. How special these letters are.
I was always impressed at how Nan could write without lined paper was always so stright, Never down hill!! :)

I Love You
Auntie Laurie

November 30, 2009 at 11:43 AM  
Anonymous Jes said...

Oh, S! I love this post! It brought me to tears, but it is so true. I always felt the same about my granny's handwriting, and I still read over all the little notes she wrote to me again and again. Handwriting is so powerful. Stories like this is what draws me to keep at least one handwritten journal always.

November 30, 2009 at 11:40 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

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I join. All above told the truth. Let's discuss this question. Here or in PM.

December 4, 2009 at 1:36 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I want to quote your post in my blog. It can?
And you et an account on Twitter?

December 25, 2009 at 7:23 AM  
Blogger simplicity said...

That's just fine if you'd like to quote my blog. I am on twitter as samarapostuma.
Thanks...

December 26, 2009 at 11:15 PM  

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