I have been reading a really interesting book by Stella Tillyard titled: Aristocrats: Caroline, Emily, Louisa, and Sarah Lennox, 1740-1832 .
Caroline, Emily, Louisa and Sarah were sisters and most of the book was written using information gleaned from letters the sisters and other family members wrote to each other.
It got me thinking. What if my life was based on letters written by and to me?
Between my siblings the only correspondence someone might drum up for historical purposes might be a large note that had been taped on my bedroom door which simply said, "Stay Out!"
Perhaps they might find a single letter of apology to my oldest sister. It was an apology for reading her private diary. What can I say other than her life was much more exciting than mine. I was stuck at home watching "The Brady Bunch" on Friday nights while she was out on the town whooping it up, playing a rousing game of miniature golf at the local "Pitch and Putt" with her first boyfriend. The fact that I was eleven might have been why my life wasn't as exciting as hers and why I "had" to read her diary. "The Brady Bunch" only lasted half an hour. What else was I to do with the rest of the night as I waited up for her to come home? I'd say I used my time wisely. I learned a lot from that diary. I learned that . . . well . . . I'd like to tell you, but then again it was private. Only my sister and I know what is in that diary and that is one person too many if you ever have the occasion to ask her. I hope you don't. If you do though, just get her on the subject of her leather wedge sandals. I wore them. She didn't know then. She does now. She still can't believe I did that. It's a wonder to me too. My feet are 3 sizes larger than hers. I have very flexible toes that fold over nicely. Lucky me! It came in handy.
Another letter that might show up would be a letter from school. Most of them had a sentence written in red ink somewhere on the page. That sentence said something like, "Please have a parent sign this note so I know they received it and return it to school tomorrow." I have excellent forging skills thanks to those letters. I also have excellent penmanship thanks to all the hours of practice writing my mom's name over and over again. I hope none of those letters are still floating around. I have an excellent reputation to uphold in my adult life. No one would believe I ever received anything but glowing recommendations if you asked them. Please don't. I can't really be sure that everyone thinks that way.
Another letter that might show up is a fan letter I wrote to Bobby Sherman. Maybe there's another one to Donny Osmond and maybe there could possibly be one to David Cassidy. My mom had a surplus of carbon paper that was fun to use and smell. I hope those letters never materialize in my life's history. I wrote the same thing to all three of them and I'd hate to hurt their feelings. I bet David, Bobby and Donny are still wondering if they received the real deal or a carbon copy.
A love letter written to me from a young lad with a mad crush on me in my younger years might show up in my life's history. This love letter goes a little off track and mentions something about "Woodsy the Owl" and his slogan, "Give a hoot, don't pollute." I think that boy lives in a tree somewhere far from civilization and no longer communicates with humans so it's okay that I've written this here. Thanks Larry...for writing me my first love letter that also addressed the environment. It was both charming and educational. How many other gals can say that? And by the way, I do give a hoot.
There are many more letters that might show up. I'm sure those are the ones that sing my praises and contain glowing recommendations and compliment me to the point of embarrassment. I'm not so sure I want those letters to materialize because, "Good girls seldom make history."