A happier note today – it’s the 8th anniversary of two of my best friends: Thom and Tressa. And if I truly was a good friend I wouldn’t write Thom’s name wrong on the card! I’ve screwed that up for years….I just instinctively write Tom. The thing about good friends is that they don’t give a shit about stuff like that.
Tom & Tressa,
I looked up what traditional gifts are for 8th anniversaries and it said pottery/bronze. I can’t imagine what pottery item or bronze statue I’d get you so you’ll have to settle for this card. Your wedding was beautiful and a lot of fun – I’m still honored today to have been a part of your special day. Happy Anniversary!
I love you guys,
Mom and Aunt Patti circa 1951 In Tazewell County, Virginia.
My mother used to talk to her siblings regularly on the telephone. When I was a kid, I’d wake up on Saturday mornings to the sound of her laughter coming from the kitchen as she talked to one of them on the phone.
Mom was one of six children. She died in 2006 and she had a brother, Jack, who died in 1980. The remaining four live in Southwestern Virginia and Tennessee. I had planned to make a trip this weekend down to see all of them – but Winter Storm Remus had other plans for us so I’m having to postpone it until later this spring.
I called my Aunt Patti to check on the weather conditions there before deciding to postpone the trip and we ended up talking for almost an hour and a half. It was wonderful to catch up.
Dear Aunt Patti
Just a note to tell you how much I enjoyed talking with you tonight. With email and Facebook – sometimes we forgo picking up the telephone (and actually dialing instead of texting!) because we feel that we know what is going on in a person’s life, we see all their status updates on social media so we think we’re up to date and don’t need to know more. Well, what that leaves out is knowing how the person is truly feeling, not just what they are broadcasting to the online world, hearing the joy or uncontrollable laughter…and the tremors of fear and pain that can be masked by lifeless letters typed on a screen.
The only person I really have long phone calls with anymore is Dad and occasionally Aunt Sue. Before Mom died Dad would always get on the phone – but he wasn’t much of one to chat on the phone back then. Things have changed. I think he’s lonely now and as a result is much more prone to longer conversations that go beyond, “Hey kiddo – everything ok with you?”
I’ve made a commitment to write more letters this year – Mom used to write me regularly. I miss it – I miss seeing her handwriting. He voice, southern accent and all, could be heard in every stroke of the pen. In addition to my letter-writing, I hope to call loved ones more often. I look forward to calling you and hearing your voice more often.
Thank you again for taking time to talk with me tonight. It made my day – hell it made my whole week! I’m sorry I won’t get down to see you this weekend – but anytime the National Weather Service names the storm that is coming through I’m betting it’s going to be a doozy! Stay warm and safe.
Posted in Just because
Tagged calls, dad, family, handwriting, handwritten, letter-writing, letters, mom, paper, phone, stationery, Tazewell County, technology, telephone, tradition, Uni-Ball 0.7mm Jetstream, VA, Year of Letters