Letters from Michael - Part 2

So, Hammy I was receiving letters from Michael, well written, beautiful penmanship, correspondence at its best, letters.

Each letter was more beautiful than the last. He never made a mistake, the strokes of his pen were careful and deliberate.

And each letter I intended to answer, but when I thought about it, I figured I should sit down with some beautiful paper and write an elaborate note to him that matched his.

But, that's not me.

With me there are scratch-outs and my penmanship looks more like a 5th grader's. It is not graceful or cursive, its all over the place, as are most of my thoughts when I write a letter.

So time went on and each year I promised myself I would sit down and write that perfect letter and each year there was never enough time.

And finally this year in February, I decided enough was enough and I took out some stationary and a pen and made myself do it. But how do you sum up three years, and also how do you apologize for not writing, what excuse is good enough?

There isn't any.

So, I wrote Michael and said, I'm sorry I haven't written and I know that no excuse is a good enough one..." and I carried on about how life had been. I thanked him for the letters and I brought him to speed on the birth of you. I told him about your dad's adventures through work and my decision to pursue teaching.

I included pictures and I sent it off.

But months went by and I heard nothing from Michael.

And finally July rolled around and I was really worried. One day, while you were swimming in the pool I had the strange sense that I should try to call Michael.

So, after I put you down  to sleep (thank God for your three hour day naps), I asked your dad if he minded if I made a long distance phone call to Scotland. Michael always included his number in his letters, so I had another way to reach him. Your dad said it was a good idea, without hesitation.

So I sat down and I tried and I tried but I couldn't figure it out! Ham, I'm no technology guru. I was so mad. I tried Skype, I tried to call him through Google, but nothing worked.

I gave up, at least for now. I had a stack of papers to go through in our bedroom and since you were still asleep and I couldn't call Michael, I might as well sort through, organize, and shred mail.

I started making a pile of mail to shred and I was surprised to see a letter that Micheal had written to us from before. I didn't know how it ended up in this stack. It had been so long since I had opened it that is has already resealed itself. I gently pried open the envelope and peeked inside. There was Micheal's beautiful penmanship peering out at me. I tried to make out some of the words to see what this one had been about, his kids, his grandchild on the way? But my eye's caught something else....."Hammy". Yes Ham, my eyes caught your name.

My heart started beating fast and tore open the letter. I scanned the letter so fast, it was pages long. Your name was scattered throughout it.

Micheal didn't know about you Ham! So this means, he HAD written back, but when???

I don't know how it happened but somehow his letter was misplaced as junk mail and luckily on the day I was so determined to call him, I found it.

It turns out that he received my letter on his birthday, which coincidentally is only a few days away from your birthday. He was so excited he took off and celebrated your almost mutual birthday at a pub.

I'll tell you what that is one day.

He filled me in on his life and was overjoyed with the news of you.

And never once did he say, your handwriting is awful, your scratch-outs make me sad, please find some better stationary to write on.

Because the thing is, Michael's letter wasn't nearly as perfect as his others had been. Sure it was still beautiful, but for the first time I was seeing scratch outs and the paper was just photocopy paper. And I felt sad inside realizing that none of those things mattered to Micheal either.

So Ham, I keep on writing to him, sometimes on stationary. Sometimes I typed letters filled with pictures of you and he would write back telling me "I couldn't stop fussing over the pictures you sent".

Ham,  I doubt you'll let something like stationary and penmanship get in the way of something good, but it might be something else, just take a step back and think about what really matters.

Love,
Mom