Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘handwriting’

love love love

All my life growing up, my father wrote letters to me.

I, too, was a great writer of letters from a very young age. I still have many of the correspondences from many of my friends. Some of the bundles of letters are fat; others thin with only a few letters or cards. Sometimes, only one letter from someone in high school or a person I met on a trip. Some curious person I don’t remember. Some friend of my parents who took to me when I was still a young girl. My inquisitive nature. My blue eyes. My youth.

My father would write to me a few times a week when I was away at summer camp. He wrote to me frequently when I was in college. He would write on a legal pad, often the yellow ones, sometimes white, always the 14″ pages, not the 11″. Or just a single piece of white typing paper enclosed in an envelope, business-size. Always one piece of paper, always a hand-scribbled bunch of words. His script was horrible, I think because he was a native Hungarian and the language was so different. He also had terrible eyesight, like all of the Glatters, as I understand it. He also must have studied Hebrew from a very young age. I can only theorize that he was confused. Handwriting is undoubtedly one of the most difficult coordinations we learn as children, so who really knows what the hell the reason.

He was a righty—my whole family is.

My father would enclose a piece of paper that had the following words:

Dearest Kath Kath,

XO

Love Love Love

Dad

I have not pulled the letters out at the time of this blog post, so perhaps I am embellishing. I will look at them soon, though. The box of letters is on my living room floor where much junk has been relocated in preparation for having new carpet installed at one end of the house. Once the carpet is in, we will reorganize a bunch of junked-up rooms and I will take some time to pull out some old letters.

Sometimes I like to sign my letters the way my father did for my own daughters or for others who I love in my life.

Love Love Love

or

love love love

Today I need to forgive myself for something I wrote on my blog Facebook* a little bit ago. I think of the way my father signed those letters. I do not think humans can give unconditional love to each other, no way, and my father’s love for me was no exception. But sometimes, if we are lucky, someone who is responsible for us gets it right.

Look what I found when I searched google images for legal yellow pad.

What a great idea. I am not writing much poetry lately (you may have noticed), but it’s refreshing to see how many different ways people approach the desire to write poems. I am heartened.

Love Love Love

XO

twinkly

*late-breaking anal-retentive/accuracy-nut update

Read Full Post »