hard copies, indeed

I've been going through some old cards and letters that I "inherited" from my dad.

This was actually a much worse pile - a few years ago. I remember an entire garbage bag filled with what seemed like every greeting card in the world.

So, I pared that down. Chose quickly what looked like actual letters, then sifted through the greeting cards for what appealed to me visually - trying to take note of any meaningful /family connections.

The greeting cards were fun for me. The truly tacky, colorful vintage designs appeal to me the most.

And if those were from friends or family, all the better.

Because it's not about cards. ..It's about people.

See. That will be my tagline. For my card company.

Anyway, either way, it had to be pared down. A process I began just a few days ago.

I know. It's been three years. But that's how long it took for me to get this rolling.

Besides, I wanted to address these things thoughtfully. Not hurriedly. And I'm glad that I waited until I was ready.

What I discovered were millions of letters written to my mom and dad from a hand full of people - that, when organized, tell a fascinating story that reads very much like a book.

These letters are a real slice of life that I would have otherwise been ignorant of.

Fact: my parents were people. With lives. Though I knew this intellectually - the proof is so enlightening.

These letters are mostly from the early part of the 1960's. Vernacular was surprisingly not all that different. Colloquialism, however, obviously has changed.

Each persons reluctance to spell out swear words, for instance, yet allude to them anyway (in various ways) is charming.

Funny. That people wrote at all. I know they had telephones. I mean these were letters. Three, four pages, typed and handwritten.

Making even the mundane events reported sparkle - as people seemed to not only really care about things, but have personal writing styles that held a readers attention (even me, forty-five years later, totally uninvolved - could not put these letters down).

I was disappointed when I came to the bottom of the stack.

I began to be able to identify who had written what - per the person's style of writing.

And I really started to care, for instance, whether Kay would ever finally, really - for once and for all agree to marry Gunnar.

..then what happened?

Exactly.

What the hell has happened to us?

I mean, what in the hxxx (rhymes with bell) has happend to us?