Monday, 13 June 2016

Dear Mr. You..and Catching Up!

These past few weeks have just seemed to fly by and I just don't want to blink. So much on the go, and many more in the works -- we never seem to have time to get bored.  I never thought I'd be wishing for a day of good old fashioned "boredom."  I'm afraid that hasn't existed around our house since the kids were younger..  

I wanted to get in and post so many things to catch up on..  we'll get there, right?

I read an article a while ago when I was sitting in the doctor's office. 

The woman had published a book of letters to men (real and hypothetical) who have shaped the person she is today.  It got me thinking about all of the people we encounter in our lives some that came and went, some that left a lasting smile in our hearts, and others that found other ways to leave marks of other sorts. 

To be honest I was only half reading it biding time until my name was called but something about what I read struck a chord with me.. 

I found myself thinking about all of those people that we may never have the chance to reach out to and the things we'd say to them if we could.  A variety of versions of Dear (fill in the blank) started swirling around in my head..  so many words unsaid for one reason or another. It really left me pondering on the value of making use of such an outlet to say what needed to be said even if the intended recipient were never to see it. 

Have you ever written a letter to someone that you'd intended to send one day, but hung onto for a while?  Did you ever send it?  

I remember writing an angry letter to my Dad as a kid.  My parents always seemed to be fighting and we were stuck in the middle.  I'd decided I didn't want to live with Dad anymore and I wanted to go live with Mom.  I think I was about 13 or 14 at the time.  

I'd spoken to my high school counsellor who suggested I call the family counsellor.  I really didn't want to do that, but he'd locked me in an office to "think about it" - little did I know he'd called her in the meantime.   He'd left me with paper and a pen and I'd written a letter to my Dad.  It was a letter filled with blame and anger.  I wanted to understand and I just didn't.  Nobody would tell me anything.  

The social worker told me that I had two choices. I could call my mother and tell her I wanted to come to live with her, and she would have to take Dad back to court; or I could tell Dad and maybe he'd let me go.  I felt like I sat there for hours after she left.  

I decided that there was no way in hell Dad was going to just open the door and let me go, and with so much time spent with Mom being largely MIA, I couldn't see any scenario in which my mother would fight for me so I dropped the idea.  I decided not to give Dad the letter and stuffed it down to the bottom of my purse.  I didn't want to throw it out at school or at home because someone might find it.  I'd planned to toss it when we were out and about.  That idea worked well until I forgot my purse at home and Dad went through it.  My daughter would call that plan a big FAIL. 

In any case... I digress..  

Don't be surprised if you see some Dear you letters in the coming days and months.  My blond brain is chewing through a hearty meal of ideas already..   

Wishing you all a fabulous week!  Happy Monday! 
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