Note: I began this blog prior to Ruth’s passing. I’m finishing up a thought that began with the September 21, 25 and 28 blogs. The September 28th blog was ready for posting, so I sent it out after Ruth died.
Mom was about ninety years old when I organized her postcards for her. I put them in a “postcard scrapbook”. I thought they’d be easier for her to enjoy that way. It’s not fancy but it houses all her cards.
I have the scrapbook now. I look at it from time to time and learn a bit more about my mother each time I read through them. It’s a written history of her life, documented in bits and pieces, much like we “text” today. Postcards were simple, quick ways to provide information. The cards went through the mail. What we now call snail mail was one of the fastest means of communication for most people. Some took weeks to travel from one end of the country to the other, and others several days to go across town.
Telephones were a luxury, so most people used the mail. Postcards were quick, easy, and some were works of art. The pictures were spectacular and the handwriting exquisite.
During the war years, mom received cards from several guys. Dad was one of many. His cards always opened the same way. “Having a swell time. Wish you were here.” They had postmarks from cities in Michigan, Maryland, Virginia, and California. When he shipped out to the Pacific, they stopped. Cards from other guys said, “waiting for orders”, “thanks for the cigs”, and “What’s the matter is your pen broke.” She kept them all but married my dad.
Most cards contained the news of the day. They were reports of who was doing what where. Sometimes they included information about the people themselves, but most focused on the day’s happenings rather than the people.
There are a couple of cards in Mom’s collection from me. I sent them during one of our winters in Palm Springs. They all started the same way, “Having a swell time. Wish you were here.”
Moving forward, let’s keep in touch. You can send me a post card, a text, a message via Facebook messenger, respond to one of the blogs I’ve posted, or use any other new fangle means of communication that might come our way. I’ve learned it’s not the how that counts, it’s the do.
For sure
My Friend
I absolutely love reading your stories. Thank you for sharing them.
Recently each time I read one I lift a prayer for you and the family.
You are creating a treasure for your family as you have in more ways than one.