“Letters from Mom”

Mom wrote me hundreds of letters and would often send me greeting cards with snipped comics or articles from newspapers or magazines she thought I'd enjoy.

Mom wrote me this letter after I’d come home to visit for the Labor Day weekend during my first semester away at college. She dedicated quite a bit of it to describing a tennis match; it helps to explain my own love of sports.

I am not sure what the deal was with “the car seat”; it sounds like we had been arguing about something, but why either of us might have been upset about a car seat is beyond me.

I also have no idea who Mary Ellen from Atlanta is. (If anyone knows, please drop me a line or leave a comment.)

Monday, 9/2/91
Labor Day

Dear David,

I guess you won’t get this until Wednesday – sorry. I would have liked you to get something Tuesday. But, then, I would have had to have written it Friday, and Friday I was too excited about you coming home.

It’s a little after 10:00 PM. The house seems really lonely and quiet, which is silly because Jenny found the base on her stereo and your speakers are a pain. Your room seems really empty – as if you took a little more of yourself this time. I’m missing you already, can you tell? Maybe it’s worse because this time you left us. And it will be longer before we will see you.

About the car seat thing. Do you begin to understand that I’m trying to give you the benefit of my experience, my intelligence, and my love? I’ve tried to teach you to be honest, and I appreciate that you don’t try to “humor” me. But, sweetheart, tender your honesty with compassion. I would never try to hurt you. If you could only be aware of that.

Maybe you won’t feel like coming home as much if you think we’d be “getting into it” all the time. I guess it’s going to be hard for a while. I wish I knew how to make it better. I expect you to grow up – I pray that doesn’t mean we have to grow apart. God, I wish this didn’t hurt so much!

David, I love you.

I straightened out your room a little, dusted, and vacuumed. I didn’t do too much, but, at least it will be ready for you. What the heck did you do with the other plaid sheet?

          and I watched the last set of the Connors/Krickstein match. It was unbelievable! I like Krickstein – he has a lot of heart and a lot of courage, and he’s steady. But Connors! My God! Today is his 39th birthday – he was looking for a short, easy match. Instead, it goes 5 grueling sets to a tie-break in the fifth. He should have been out of it at least three or four times; he was really down on the scoreboard. If it was anyone else, I would have changed channels. But not Connors. He keeps drawing on something from deeper and deeper inside, some reserve of soul that’s unbelievable. Talk about stress! Point after point, about as intense as you can get, with the crowd going wild – and Jimmy won the tiebreak! I hope he has one more in him, and I hope this is it for him. He has given me so much pleasure over the years. And inspiration. To never give up, to always believe in yourself, to work hard and to use talent to the fullest. What an example.

I wonder what he’s like off the court. He used to be the bad boy of tennis, and I imagine he’s no saint. But he laughs at himself – he can’t be too bad.

Ah, well, enough about tennis. Although I could get into the value of sports (both participating and spectator) in shaping our spirits. Nah, I’m a Red Sox fan — I’d better not get too deep… Let’s see, the Patriots won, the Red Sox won, Connors won, and Larry Bird is healthy – all’s right with the world.

I’m not looking forward to going to work this week. Everything will be different, and I probably have more to do. Sometimes, even if things aren’t great, change is harder, you know. Did I tell you Mary Ellen was in town? She called tonight and we talked for a while. She’s going to stop by the office tomorrow on her way home to Atlanta; it will be good to see her; I miss her wit and wisdom.

Well, one of us is tired. I know epistles from me are not as special as ones with perfume from Vanderbilt, but I keep trying… At least it’s something in the old box, huh?

I wish you were my little boy and I could hold you in my arms for hours again. I don’t guess I’ll ever stop missing or cherishing all those special, special moments, years we shared. Nothing, not time or distance or anything can ever take that away from us.

I love you, David, with all my heart. And I like you, too.