Letter Writing

When Elizabeth Taylor, one of the greatest movie stars of all time in my humble opinion, died last month, one of the news stories to catch my interest had nothing to do with her awards or her philanthropy or her husbands. No, it seems Taylor's earliest romantic letters will be going up on the auction block. She was barely 17 and writing to some guy we never heard of, William Pawley; it was her first fiancee though she didn't marry him. And Pawley kept those letters all these years, and now his estate will be getting a pretty penny for her thoughts...like this:

"I've never loved anyone in my life before one third as much as I love you - and I never will (well, as far as that goes - I'll never love anyone else - period)." Elizabeth

Now we know that's not true! She went on to marry 8 times, twice to Richard Burton, back in the day when "living in sin" was seriously considered living sinfully and could break your contract, and drown your career in the Hollywood studio system. What touched me about this story is how we are losing so many wonderful love stories to emails, texting and twitter accounts. Think about the letters of John and Abigail Adams, or Winston and Clementine Churchill.

"Time passes swiftly, but is it not joyous to see how great and growing is the treasure we have gathered together, amid the storms and stresses of so many eventful and, to millions, tragic and terrible years?" Winston

For me, writing is a form of meditation. It's a way to make sense of the world, and a way to keep me focused on the here and now. Why perseverate about a problem in the middle of the night, when I can jot it down in a notebook and be done with it. A relative once looked at me menacingly and said about his ex-wife, "So you're the one who told her to write me letters!" OK, so maybe her letters were more like, "Why don't you get up up off the couch and be useful for a change?" Everything we write may not be full of starry-eyed, wonderfully romantic prose.

One of my earliest treasures was finding a letter my Mother had written to an Aunt while my Father was dying and I was a baby. It's dated Oct. 20, 1948 Scranton, PA. She was trying to write to everyone and let them know about the new baby, me.

"She is wonderful, God bless her. She crys at night from 7 to 10 but the rest of the time we don't know we have a baby. Jimmy was such a crybaby that it is a great relief to me to have such an angel...we are having her Christened Sunday. ...her hair is still red and I'm hoping it stays that way...Bob (my Father) stays about the same. He doesn't have those spasms anymore. Also the tic in his eye and face have disappeared. - his right arm is useless - he seems to get more helpless every day. I thought having the baby would cheer him up, but he gets more depressed."

My Father died the following April of a brain tumor. Maybe I carry the letter because that makes a part of my childhood real, it's better than stories, I can hold it in my hand, something that happened when he and I existed in the world together. And my Mother always kept with her a letter I wrote to her my first year in college. I had just returned to my Boston dorm room after marching in a peace rally after the assassination of Martin Luther King. I was a fledgling activist, and Mother must have loved that little spark, that forging of my young identity.

I have a few love letters, and a poem from my husband. I keep them locked away in a hidden place. He wrote them many years ago, before we were married, as a way to woo me I'm sure. So this is what I'd recommend for any newly engaged couple....take the time to write to each other. If we're lucky when we write, it's as if some higher power takes over and types what we'd always longed to say. And since We missed out on our 30th Anniversary a couple of years ago because, there was a family wedding, and an 85th birthday party to plan, and a move and life in general, I think I'll start planning our 33 and 1/3 Anniversary Party. After all, I love him at least two thirds more!!