In going through a box of things from the garage recently, I discovered a bunch of stuff I had packed up when I moved out of the apartment I shared with my ex-husband and back in with my folks in 2008. The beautiful appliqued quilt Kathy made me, that hung on the wall; a bundle of letters and cards from as far back as elementary school; my cubby box from Montessori Plus Preschool, which I’ve kept since I was 3; and a box of jewelry.
I actually cried a few times, reading the letters, especially the ones from Michele. The one that really got me talked about us being friends until we’re old and grey. Her comments on how she’d go grey first made me smile through my tears. Miss her every day! The birthday cards from my grandparents, all passed away now, are all so sweet, and I grinned at the letters Jolene wrote me from college. There were postcards Dad sent me from the road (somewhere I have a whole box of those!), as well one of the best cards Hattie Jo ever made me, when she was about 3. Such wonderful memories, all packed away in a hurry.
Among the items was a sheaf of papers, containing a bunch of my writing from as far back as my UNM days, some typed, some handwritten. There are a few poetry fragments, something that appears to be the outline of a play, and at least 4 full-fledged stories! I was quite impressed with myself, since I never seem to actually finish anything I begin writing these days. A couple of these are children’s stories, and one is a very short (one page, typed) mystery, I guess you’d call it. In the old Reader’s Digest they had those type of little bitty tales, just one page, a story of death and murder, or evil and sadness, and this was what I was aiming at, I seem to remember.
For as long as I can remember, people have told me I should be a writer, and while I do tell a good story, I’ve never been that great at putting my words on paper. Poetry was my medium for a long time, and still is, when I need to truly express myself. If I played an instrument, or read music, I’d have been a singer/songwriter, I suppose. I’ve always admired folks like Paul Simon, James Taylor, Mary Chapin Carpenter, Dolly Parton, Carole King, Bonnie Raitt, Elton John, Adele, Elvis Costello, or even Lady Gaga. Hell, I grew up listening to the Simon and Garfunkel records my older siblings had left behind, and singing along. I still know most of the words, and the harmonies. I’ll never be a great poet, or a famous singer, but maybe, someday, someone will set one of my little verses to music. And then, I can harmonize, just like Art & Paul.