{"id":685,"date":"2009-02-16T08:50:00","date_gmt":"2009-02-16T13:50:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/monday-february-16-2009\/"},"modified":"2009-02-16T08:50:00","modified_gmt":"2009-02-16T13:50:00","slug":"monday-february-16-2009","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/monday-february-16-2009\/","title":{"rendered":"Monday February 16, 2009"},"content":{"rendered":"

My friend Anita<\/a> just gave me the most wonderful gift.  <\/p>\n

For years after she moved to Ireland we corresponded by snail mail.  Every Monday I could expect to get the long, six to eight page letter she’d written the week before.  Mine often didn’t get to her house til Tuesday because the mail was slower going that direction.  <\/span>

Over time, we quit and resorted to emails and an occasional phone call.  Looking back, I’m still surprised how long we kept it up.
            <\/a>
<\/span>
About two years ago I gave Anita her old letters.  Yesterday she gave me mine.  I was almost shivering when I untied the plastic grocery bag stacked full of pages and pages and pages of letters neatly folded together.  Did I really want to see them?  Would I be embarrassed beyond words?  WHAT had I ever found to write about that required four pages chock full on both sides every week?<\/span>

I’ve only been through about six letters, but so far I’m roaring with laughter more then dying of embarrassment.  I forgot just what life was like back then.  I keep wishing for a college course again.  Something to stimulate my childcare inundated brain to clear the cobwebs.  I wish I had to study for something.  But I forgot how intense those years were.  Every day and half the night sometimes was filled to the brim with enormous amounts of facts to memorize, difficult concepts, long papers to write and deadlines.  Always deadlines.  Tests.  Papers.  More papers.  More tests. 
<\/a>
<\/span>
I love these long handwritten letters with all the descriptive phrases and well-composed sentences.  I’m hopelessly old fashioned.  I can’t seem to fall in love with facebook.  I actually miss sitting at the table and handwriting stuff.  Hard to believe that when I first started college I had to write my papers at the table and then type them because I “couldn’t think on the computer.”  It just wouldn’t come. <\/span>

I love finding phrases like “poverty of thought.”  It reminds me that at one point in my life, I actually spoke English instead of “preshoolerese.”  <\/span>

I love remembering what my schedule was really like.  It makes me realize that even though this time of my life feels incredibly demanding, my life has mostly always been that way.  <\/span>

I love reading about the <\/span>huge<\/span> emotional and intellectual issues of the time that now seem paltry.  It reminds me that the things I am wallowing around in now will someday look manageable.  There are answers, sometimes they are just long in coming.<\/span>
                                                  <\/a>
And best of all, I love the last sentence on the letter I just read.  “Such is life.  At least I’m not a housewife.”  Proof that you can learn to love almost anything.<\/span>
<\/font><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

My friend Anita just gave me the most wonderful gift.  For years after she moved to Ireland we corresponded by snail mail.  Every Monday I could expect to get the… <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-685","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p39ynQ-b3","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/685","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=685"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/685\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=685"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=685"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.michellebeachy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=685"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}