Really appreciate your insight. I may have saved my letters, but I'm a minimalist and I completely understand your wanting to clear out things that don't bring joy, letters included. Once I'm done with my letters book, I hope to be able to part with some. I loved your beautiful last line: "I don’t need a ceremony to let things go, I only need to walk past these doors in the hallway of my heart, closing them as I walk forever ahead into the light." Thank you.
Wow, camp save for the win! At least in your home. How special that must be for your daughter to read those letters written by her father. A different perspective for sure. A gift. And those post its from this incredible man. So sweet. Getting to reread them again must be so moving and tender memories. THank you for sharing!
Wow, that's a very unique and specific experience. Sorry you had to shred for safety. That's horrible. And since you're closet is lacking "true deep put-all-of-your-feelings-onto the page" love letters, you're going to have start collecting them now! ;)
Feet in both camps here...Camp Save for all the letters my husband sent me (and we'll celebrate our 53rd anniversary this year), but somehow it seemed disloyal to him to save letters from anyone who came before him. So they are long gone. But memories remain!
I'm Camp Save and I'm so happy I am. When my husband passed away three years ago, I was able to gift our daughter all the lovely cards and notes he wrote to me, some dating back well before she was born. It gave her a different perspective of her dad as a man in love with her mom and not just as a parent, this man she and I both loved more than life.
Just yesterday, I came across several pink post-it notes that a former partner would leave for me in random places. He also inscribed a book of poetry by Kahlil Gibran, a birthday gift from him back in the 1980's. He was such a lovely man. I fell in love with his mind, his heart and his wit. He spoke French and had been born and raised on Lennox Avenue in Harlem. He grew up in a home without a TV and worked at a NYC book dispensary before moving south, so he was incredibly well-read. He taught me that a partner who is intellectually stimulating was more alluring than one who is was merely physically attractive, although he was both. Because he passed away much too soon, these notes are more meaningful than I can say.
Love this post, Sis. I served during and before the DADT era, as you know. So, anything that would "out" me was mostly shredded. Not burned out of moving on or spite, but out of safety. I do have a few anniversary cards with the, Love, ___ written on them and those are meaningful. But true deep put-all-of-your-feelings-onto the page? Don't think I have any of those. But I'll look. Someday. I'm busy today :)
Letters from a loved one are to be treasured. In the olden days, we had letters and a 10 cent stamp to keep us connected. I have a box of old letters from my husband while he was in the Army; and every once in a while, I reread them to remind me of him and his sweet words of love and longing.
“One cannot collect all the beautiful shells on the beach. One can collect only a few, and they are more beautiful if they are few." -AML
I’m thinking about this as I consider your question. At 63 it feels necessary to weed out the unnecessary in every corner. Just as I loved cd’s and books, I’ve held onto relatively few and I continue to let them go at regular intervals. Photos and letters are a whole different animal. Like you, I’ve been a letter writer most of my life. In the 90’s I was a part of a group called Postcard X and we had a global reach. We sent postcards mostly, but many of us gravitated to one another and kept with our connection in letters and mail art. I saved everything. Hundreds of postcards and letters from all across the globe. A few years ago I let many of them go.( Most,actually). It was good for me to let go of the past. They pointed to a time that no longer filled a need. These days, I keep just a few photo boxes of letters. They are rich with tenderness and I feel good knowing they are tucked safely away. The bigger issue for me has become shedding things and letters that no longer bring joy. (People too). The older I get, the tighter I want this circle of my life to be. I can’t hang onto everything or everyone and in fact I’m beginning to get some clarity on what that looks and feels like for me. Attachment to people and things has begun to feel claustrophobic. I don’t need a ceremony to let things go, I only need to walk past these doors in the hallway of my heart, closing them as I walk forever ahead into the light.
Really appreciate your insight. I may have saved my letters, but I'm a minimalist and I completely understand your wanting to clear out things that don't bring joy, letters included. Once I'm done with my letters book, I hope to be able to part with some. I loved your beautiful last line: "I don’t need a ceremony to let things go, I only need to walk past these doors in the hallway of my heart, closing them as I walk forever ahead into the light." Thank you.
Congratulations on 53 years! And I love your loyalty. Guess you knew at year one it would last at least 50 years!
Wow, camp save for the win! At least in your home. How special that must be for your daughter to read those letters written by her father. A different perspective for sure. A gift. And those post its from this incredible man. So sweet. Getting to reread them again must be so moving and tender memories. THank you for sharing!
Wow, that's a very unique and specific experience. Sorry you had to shred for safety. That's horrible. And since you're closet is lacking "true deep put-all-of-your-feelings-onto the page" love letters, you're going to have start collecting them now! ;)
Love that outlook. No matter the outcome, at one point they were "it".
I love that you reread them! Precious letters your children might enjoy too. :)
Feet in both camps here...Camp Save for all the letters my husband sent me (and we'll celebrate our 53rd anniversary this year), but somehow it seemed disloyal to him to save letters from anyone who came before him. So they are long gone. But memories remain!
I'm Camp Save and I'm so happy I am. When my husband passed away three years ago, I was able to gift our daughter all the lovely cards and notes he wrote to me, some dating back well before she was born. It gave her a different perspective of her dad as a man in love with her mom and not just as a parent, this man she and I both loved more than life.
Just yesterday, I came across several pink post-it notes that a former partner would leave for me in random places. He also inscribed a book of poetry by Kahlil Gibran, a birthday gift from him back in the 1980's. He was such a lovely man. I fell in love with his mind, his heart and his wit. He spoke French and had been born and raised on Lennox Avenue in Harlem. He grew up in a home without a TV and worked at a NYC book dispensary before moving south, so he was incredibly well-read. He taught me that a partner who is intellectually stimulating was more alluring than one who is was merely physically attractive, although he was both. Because he passed away much too soon, these notes are more meaningful than I can say.
Love this post, Sis. I served during and before the DADT era, as you know. So, anything that would "out" me was mostly shredded. Not burned out of moving on or spite, but out of safety. I do have a few anniversary cards with the, Love, ___ written on them and those are meaningful. But true deep put-all-of-your-feelings-onto the page? Don't think I have any of those. But I'll look. Someday. I'm busy today :)
I'm a saver. It reminds of something endearing and sweet about the other person and also reveals how they viewed me.
Letters from a loved one are to be treasured. In the olden days, we had letters and a 10 cent stamp to keep us connected. I have a box of old letters from my husband while he was in the Army; and every once in a while, I reread them to remind me of him and his sweet words of love and longing.
“One cannot collect all the beautiful shells on the beach. One can collect only a few, and they are more beautiful if they are few." -AML
I’m thinking about this as I consider your question. At 63 it feels necessary to weed out the unnecessary in every corner. Just as I loved cd’s and books, I’ve held onto relatively few and I continue to let them go at regular intervals. Photos and letters are a whole different animal. Like you, I’ve been a letter writer most of my life. In the 90’s I was a part of a group called Postcard X and we had a global reach. We sent postcards mostly, but many of us gravitated to one another and kept with our connection in letters and mail art. I saved everything. Hundreds of postcards and letters from all across the globe. A few years ago I let many of them go.( Most,actually). It was good for me to let go of the past. They pointed to a time that no longer filled a need. These days, I keep just a few photo boxes of letters. They are rich with tenderness and I feel good knowing they are tucked safely away. The bigger issue for me has become shedding things and letters that no longer bring joy. (People too). The older I get, the tighter I want this circle of my life to be. I can’t hang onto everything or everyone and in fact I’m beginning to get some clarity on what that looks and feels like for me. Attachment to people and things has begun to feel claustrophobic. I don’t need a ceremony to let things go, I only need to walk past these doors in the hallway of my heart, closing them as I walk forever ahead into the light.