Precious Ink

I thought I'd submit a sample of some of my grandfather's handwriting. He was a navy man for most of his life, was a member of the Sea Bees and was in WWII. Back before he married my grandmother, when they were still courting, he would write to her from whatever ship he was on. Thing is, he wouldn't write individual letters, but mini-journals. Some were repurposed - the attached picture is from a Weekly Time Book wage journal - and some were hand made and sewn together with whatever he had at hand. In any case, the journal I have, from December of 1932, opens with the line: 5:45pm Order All clear ad we're off. On leaving the pier, the tide forced the ship against the pier, stoving in the bulwark and wrecking the gang plank. Outside of that, all O.K.

Since I was a child, my maternal grandmother and I wrote each other regularly - right up until her death in 2009 when she was just shy of age 97. She pretty much kept all of my letters (we're talking 30 years worth, about once a month!). For many years, I would end my letters to her with the line, "you can throw this letter out" because I once helped clean her room and could not believe how much stuff she had saved. But I was really no different and packed away most of her letters, too. Her newsy correspondence often included recipes, newspaper clippings, and family pictures. Now that she is gone, I sometimes pull out a random letter just to 'hear' her voice again. In the mid-1990s, I became pen-pals with an aunt, too, and she regularly sends me letters that are filled with doodles, drama and her beautiful cursive. Our faithful correspondence was very comforting after my Grandma died, as I still have someone to write! It's such a treat to receive fat letters from loved ones and when they are gone, they really do become treasures.

When Sally Ride died last year I unearthed this note from my mother. My mom wrote this note before she bolted out the door to work in the wee hours of the morning. She often left notes. This one was in 1983, I was 19 years old and somehow wise enough to keep this note all these years. It hangs on my fridge. My friends are amazed that I held onto it after all the moving around I have done. It's one of my most precious possessions. My mom died 10 years ago. I miss everything about her but I especially miss her sense of humor. This note isn't "politically correct" at all. It's funny - kind of a huge commentary on my moms life with my dad. It's a short note but now that I am sitting down and writing about it to you I realize that it contains a lot of information. I have a few other handwritten things from my mother - one of the notebooks holds notes she wrote while battling cancer - she wanted to make me and my brother quilts so she made lists of what they would have on them - her writing is very shaky and almost unreadable - I am sure it's the last thing she wrote. My moms handwriting was always so beautiful, pretty, super girly and mine is so awful like my dads was... i sometimes think of making it better but i think at 49 I'll take on a better hobby.