Community Chat

[hoosieroriginal]

I have been cleaning out my basement, I'm getting older now and don't want anyone to have to go through my personal things when I'm gone.  I came upon a love letter from a man I met at work 18 years ago.  We dated for three years - he was 7 years younger than me. 

I'm sure at the time this wasn't as important to me as it is right now. 

Do you keep your old love letters?

[Snowpuppy]

I did for a long time along with cards & momentos.

Then I realized if dude(s) had chutzpah and I mean man sized chutzpah.....he'd (they'd) have stuck it out with me. Life can get tough.

So why cry over some wimp who was so spineless?

[deepwaterdotter]

I don't remember ever receiving a love letter.  But do have some pictures that bring back memories.

[Sooner]

ONLY from my husband.  Otherwise, GOOD LORD no!

[lulu2]

No, I lived for the moment then pitched them.

My mother was a snooper so there was little privacy. My sister kept everything and many things came back to haunt her.

[Perkup]

I did for many years.  But finally I realized that even though the letters were from their Father, I would prefer that they not be made "public". So I put many of them into the fireplace, and thought wonderful thoughts as I watched them turn to ashes and disapper, as he did when he died.  Not from my heart, but only from my sight.  I kept a few - maybe six or so - that were really special and that I wouldn't be uncomfortable for anyone to see.

[Mominohio]

I no longer keep things like this. I move on because for me, those things are not real anymore.

Old letters and cards from family and friends, yes, I still keep many, but those from loves that are now over, really have no meaning to me. It, to me, is only a snapshot of something that was at a moment in time, and did not last.

Now if I had such letters from my husband, I'd keep them, or if they were from a former beau that had passed away (like often happens in wartime) and we didn't part of our own choosing, I would probably keep them.

[Just Bling]

I have an entire box of love letters exchanged between my mom and dad when they were dating.  

I wish I would of put them in the crypt when my mom passed, I read and few and smiled and then realized how so much in love they were.

What do you think I should do with them?

[Mominohio]

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@Perkup wrote:

I did for many years.  But finally I realized that even though the letters were from their Father, I would prefer that they not be made "public". So I put many of them into the fireplace, and thought wonderful thoughts as I watched them turn to ashes and disapper, as he did when he died.  Not from my heart, but only from my sight.  I kept a few - maybe six or so - that were really special and that I wouldn't be uncomfortable for anyone to see.

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@Perkup

I'm glad you made a distinction between those you were not comfortable sharing, yet leaving those that you could. Someday it will let others see the man that maybe only you knew. 

I think adult children enjoy and need to see the people that there parents once were, oftentimes a totally different (or maybe just an expanded version) person than they ever knew.

[LilacTree]

In 1960 I received a letter from my then fiance' who was on a skiing trip with his buddies.

He titled it "To My Rose Amongst the Thorns." 

I was too naive to realize how that would affect my life with him and our marriage (which ended in divorce).  He hated my family (especially my sweet mom) and as soon as our first child was born (nine months after we married) he said he was transferred by the company and we had to move to VA, DC suburbs, six hours away.  It wasn't until years later that I found out he requested that transfer.

Therefore, we lived in VA for eight years and hardly ever saw our families.  In the meantime my mother became ill with cancer.  I took a stand and my two youngest babies (two months and 16 months . . . I had four children by then) and went up to take care of her for the last four months of her life.  Unfortunately, by that time she was extremely ill, it had reached her brain and she rarely spoke.  I would sit on her bed and read "Jane Eyre" to her over and over again, because she loved that novel.   

That "love letter" should have been a warning to me, but I didn't know it.  I missed all those years of having an adult relationship with my beloved mother.