“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.

I loved getting letters from mom, especially in the Spring semester of my freshman year of college. She knew that I was really having a hard time trying to decide what I wanted to do with the rest of my life and wrote me constantly. This (pretty typical) missive is full of gratefully distracting tidbits about her life and what was happening back home.

I can’t at all remember anything about the “key thief” she mentions. I guess someone had stolen one of the dorm access cards or something like that. My first year at UF was just one year after the Gainesville murders and security was a huge issue hanging over the campus; parents were terrified but most eighteen year old kids know nothing of fear. I remember a lot of eye-rolling among my friends whenever we talked to our scared moms and dads.

1/23/92
Dearest David,

I’m at work early again and I decided not to start working until 8:30. I’ve been putting in a lot of hours since the new boss got here. She seems OK most of the time, but, as usual, she has added to my workload. (I really don’t sit around eating cookies all day, either.) Julie can’t stand her. I don’t think Christine can either. Patty’s just waiting and watching. I’m trying to be positive. I guess the proof will be in the pudding. (Oh, God, the older I get, the more cliché attacks I seem to have); our sales numbers in terms of net gain have been horrendous for a long time. I guess we’ll soon see whether or not the changes make any difference.

Do they have any leads on the key thief? It’s either a Seminole with a sick sense of humor, or someone who’s really sick, who may try to use the keys to get into the dorms later when security relaxes again. Please continue to be careful and tell your friends the same. If you all are on the same channel, it’ll be safer. (Funny, you don’t look Morley …)(I knew I should have been a stand-up comic.)

In case you’re wondering, I feel guilty about not using the top line of this paper – it’s wasteful. Maybe I should write smaller. It’s about the planet.

The shuttle launch was beautiful yesterday, one of the clearest skies in a couple of years. I wish I had gone up on the roof; I’m sure I would have been able to see the booster separation. It’s funny, the launches seem almost commonplace now, but I still get misty thinking about it. I mean, no one was in space when I was a kid. Do you realize that when you tell your great grand-children that you were on the beach and saw the first shuttle launch, they’ll think you’re an antique? Weird. It’s like Nana talking about life before TV.

I guess I’m going to have to keep writing for a while — I don’t want to waste paper.

What else is new? All the dogs went for their shots – you knew that. Fingerpup has awful scabs on his ear and chest. The vet said he might have a staph infection. (Hee, hee, that’s what we have here – a staff infection!) I guess I’d better call for the medicine today.

Hey, today is Beverly’s birthday. Naturally, I forgot to get a card. I’d better hit Albertson’s after work.

I bought a quick-pick for Fantasy 5 last night. I got 3, 13, 26, 31, 33. Notice a trend 3 and 1 and multiples thereof. Guess what came out. 1, 2, 12, 24, 21. That’s me, a day late and a dollar short. (Oh, no, another cliché attack!) See, 1, 2, and multiples thereof? Get it?

Did you hear the one about the guy from Milwaukee who was arrested for trying to use food stamps to mail a watermelon?

Jenny’s got exams this week. She said she froze (oops) yesterday during French and pre-calc. I think it’s because she didn’t study enough. (I wonder where she got the idea that you don’t have to study? Shit, even I studied for exams!) Today she has History and Chemistry. That hurts even now, just thinking about it. And yesterday afternoon her allergies were awful. Maybe that’s why she froze.

She really misses you, David. Maybe even more than I do. Please keep writing to her and talking to her. It means a lot. As much as I like to get your letters, I’d rather you write to her more often – I get to talk to you more.

I guess I should get going. I’m waiting for you to call me today about this summer thing. I love you, David, with all my heart, always, and more than you’ll ever know!

Mom