Sometimes Looking Back Can Be A Way Of Moving Forward

---

This old gal…

Found a box…old…tattered…musty…stuck in a tote…of forgotten this and thats…this box…hidden away…after her death…ignored…avoided…for sixteen years…contained letters…hundreds of letters…written by that mother of mine…when she went away to nursing school…

Eighteen year old her…writing home…three times a week…from 1955 to 1958…words from a young lady…some 60 years earlier…at the same stage of life…as those three college girls of mine…

These penned notes…in that familiar handwriting…no longer hit the gut with the usual dread…instead…piqued curiosity…what better way to go back in time…look into the mind of that mother of mine…who was she…what made her tick…were any signs there…

Of the agonizing future…that lie ahead…

Organized by date…this old gal…rehomed the treasures…into a pretty little box…pulled out the first one…got comfy…

And began…to read…
​
And this husband of mine…agreed…