I made a discovery today. Nothing terribly remarkable, but something that made me feel very odd. I pulled an old Toll House cookie tin from underneath my mother's bed earlier and popped it open to see if there was anything inside. There was. In a very cliche fashion, it was stuffed full of old letters my mom had received from various family members between mid-Spring and late fall of 1990. The ones from April to August were from my dad. The first was a note he left for my mom explaining that he had to leave and apologizing for doing so. I'm guessing he didn't tell anyone he was leaving from the sound of the note. I don't remember of course (I wasn't yet four), but I assume it was a pretty upsetting time for the family in general. The first actual letter was post-marked April 23rd from Bozeman, Montana. Looks like my dad went on an 80 hour bus trip through Colorado, Utah, Idaho and Montana before ending up in West Yellowstone. Not sure how he made it from there to Kansas City, but the next letters aren't until June and they are all pretty much the same: apologies, regret for leaving his family, promises to get his act together, hopes for being a family again, etc.
It makes me almost hate him a little less. Almost. Those sure are a lot of promises I don't ever remember being fulfilled. The series of letters from him goes into the middle of August when he talks about renting a house (the one I remember moving into when I was a kid) and that was that. Guess he got his way and we all moved up to KC from Oklahoma for good. The way he talks about never going back seems a little empty now that he's basically been forced to move there indefinitely.
The other letters are mostly from my grandmother (dad's mom) and my aunt (dad's sister). I just now remembered that my grandma would write us letters when we were kids (they seem so old-fashioned now). Most have to do with us settling in and going to school and church. My aunt wrote of wanting to move up to KC too. She lived in Texas for a few of the letters, but I guess moved back to my hometown for the months preceding her (with my uncle) ultimate move to KC. I remember them living with us while I was in kindergarten, but don't really remember the exact dates.
All the letters though, seem so depressing. Even though everyone expresses hope for things, the bottom line in all of the correspondence was a little...desolate. No one had money, work was hard to come by and ultimately, trying to live together as a family was probably more trouble than just coping with being alone. Not a whole lot of hope for wanting to start a family myself, but I have very distinct memories of knowing things would never stay bad, so it doesn't deter me too much.
Like I said, it was weird to read the letters, and I only wish I could read my mother's responses. I'm sure no one saved her letters like she saved theirs, but I guess my mom is a little bit sentimental and a little bit of a pack rat. My only hope is that she doesn't cling to those letters as examples of how empty words and promises can be. I hope she knows that things worked out for the best and the best isn't always what we want it to be. That's my hope there.
Songs to consider:
Goodbye Skyline (Danger Is My Middle Name)
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