Dear Mary,
You know what? You're really okay! I know there were times in your life you didn't really believe that. There were times that felt chaotic and out of control and times when it felt like there was nothing you could do that would ever be right. The teen years were particularly dark and you felt very awkward and very alone. But, no matter what damage you tried to do, you got through it!
Look at yourself now. Sure, there are some things you still don't like and can't admit to yourself but those things are changeable and you can make that change for the better. Look at where you are in life. You have a good job working with good people - people who appreciate you and look to you for answers.
You get hard on yourself, ya know? You have days when you are you're own worst enemy. I guess that's natural but take it easy on yourself. You do okay. So lighten up once in a while.
And, once and for all, admit it. You like yourself. So there!
With a big me-hug,
Mary
Showing posts with label 30 Letters in 30 Days. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 30 Letters in 30 Days. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
30 Letters in 30 Days...Day 29. the person you want to tell everything to, but are too afraid
Dear Mom,
There's so much I want to tell you but I know there is so much that you would either not understand or you would disapprove. So I never told you.
I want to tell you, first, that I know you always wanted the best for me and wanted me to be happy. I can honestly say, Mom, that I am happy. I want you to know that.
I want to tell you some of the crazy things I did while I was growing up and why I did them. Like, those times when I was experimenting with reacreational drugs. I know you'd be upset with me. I did it to fit in. I did it for fun. I thought I had to. And, you know what? I didn't really like it and that's why I stopped. I never did it to excess but I know, for you, even trying it once is excessive. I'm sorry, Mom, because I know you'd be disappointed in me. I never wanted to disappoint you. But I also want you to understand that what I went through then has made me who I am today. I know what to stay away from, to avoid and to run from because of some of the things I did back then. I hope you can understand how even the bad choices we make mold us into who we are.
I want to tell you about my job. I get pretty frustrated sometimes. The thing is, I love my job. I love that I work for a not-for-profit agency that really cares about people. I love working with people with mental illnesses. But I also feel trapped sometimes because I completely neglect my creative side most of the time. It starts to stifle me. I want to let you know that you were primarily responsible for me getting into this line of work. You taught me to care. And, you're also responsible for my creative side. You nurtured it and allowed me to express myself throughout my life. Thank you for that!
I want to tell you about my life...where I'm at right now. I want you to know that I deeply love Alex and know that he deeply loves me. I know you were worried about that because of our age difference but you can relax, Mom. It's the real deal!
And one last thing, I want to tell you that it's okay to go. I know you're suffering and struggling and, for some reason, hanging on when you know what awaits you is so much better. I'm okay, Mom. We all are. And it's okay for you to go if you want to. You raised me, and all of us, very well. We're going to be just fine.
Love you forever,
Moochie
There's so much I want to tell you but I know there is so much that you would either not understand or you would disapprove. So I never told you.
I want to tell you, first, that I know you always wanted the best for me and wanted me to be happy. I can honestly say, Mom, that I am happy. I want you to know that.
I want to tell you some of the crazy things I did while I was growing up and why I did them. Like, those times when I was experimenting with reacreational drugs. I know you'd be upset with me. I did it to fit in. I did it for fun. I thought I had to. And, you know what? I didn't really like it and that's why I stopped. I never did it to excess but I know, for you, even trying it once is excessive. I'm sorry, Mom, because I know you'd be disappointed in me. I never wanted to disappoint you. But I also want you to understand that what I went through then has made me who I am today. I know what to stay away from, to avoid and to run from because of some of the things I did back then. I hope you can understand how even the bad choices we make mold us into who we are.
I want to tell you about my job. I get pretty frustrated sometimes. The thing is, I love my job. I love that I work for a not-for-profit agency that really cares about people. I love working with people with mental illnesses. But I also feel trapped sometimes because I completely neglect my creative side most of the time. It starts to stifle me. I want to let you know that you were primarily responsible for me getting into this line of work. You taught me to care. And, you're also responsible for my creative side. You nurtured it and allowed me to express myself throughout my life. Thank you for that!
I want to tell you about my life...where I'm at right now. I want you to know that I deeply love Alex and know that he deeply loves me. I know you were worried about that because of our age difference but you can relax, Mom. It's the real deal!
And one last thing, I want to tell you that it's okay to go. I know you're suffering and struggling and, for some reason, hanging on when you know what awaits you is so much better. I'm okay, Mom. We all are. And it's okay for you to go if you want to. You raised me, and all of us, very well. We're going to be just fine.
Love you forever,
Moochie
Sunday, September 18, 2011
30 Letters in 30 Days...Day 28. someone that changed your life
Dear Lee,
You were the best teacher I ever had. You instilled in me a love of the theatre and the knowledge that I had certain skills, acting skills, that were actually good! You gave me confidence and understanding. You were tough on me when you needed to be and soft when I needed you to be.
Your enthusiasm for acting and the theatre was contagious and I was like a sponge...so eager to learn. I know that you gave me chances I wouldn't have gotten at other schools or with other professors. And, above all, you were a friend.
I don't act that much anymore. Not at all for the last few years, but, I use the techniques you taught me every single day in so many ways. Because what you taught me was an effective way to communicate with as many different and varied people as possible. Priceless lesson that! One that changed my life, gave me confidence and wings.
I will always be grateful to you for that!
With love,
Mary Beth
You were the best teacher I ever had. You instilled in me a love of the theatre and the knowledge that I had certain skills, acting skills, that were actually good! You gave me confidence and understanding. You were tough on me when you needed to be and soft when I needed you to be.
Your enthusiasm for acting and the theatre was contagious and I was like a sponge...so eager to learn. I know that you gave me chances I wouldn't have gotten at other schools or with other professors. And, above all, you were a friend.
I don't act that much anymore. Not at all for the last few years, but, I use the techniques you taught me every single day in so many ways. Because what you taught me was an effective way to communicate with as many different and varied people as possible. Priceless lesson that! One that changed my life, gave me confidence and wings.
I will always be grateful to you for that!
With love,
Mary Beth
Friday, September 16, 2011
30 Letters in 30 Days...Day 27. the friendliest person you knew for only one day
Whew...this one is hard!! Okay...here goes...
Dear Lady in the Brown Sweater at Jury Duty,
I can remember heading into the court house for jury duty and thinking, "What the heck am I doing here?" I was scared half to death because I had no idea what to expect. I got in the court room and sat near the back as the room started filling with other people who'd been called. We all sat, quietly, as the Court Commissioner explained our duties and how we would know if we were going to be called in. Then, he listened patiently to those who were desperately trying to get out of it. Then, we all got numbers. I thought that was it but no. My number, along with a bunch of others, was called and told to go into the other court room and wait. Apparently, we were starting immediately!
The antechamber of the court room was full of anxious people - me, being one of them. I sat on a ledge, as there were not enough chairs, and you sat next to me. You brought a book with you which I thought was a genius move because this looked like it was going to take a long time. You smiled and said you were nervous. That's the ice breaker and that's all it took. We stuck together all morning waiting, answering questions, more waiting. Then they let half of us go home, but not our half. We were ushered into a court room and into the jury box. We were going to go through viore dire. I'm sure I've spelled that wrong. Attorneys asked us questions over and over again to determined if we would be a good juror for an upcoming case. Then, just as suddenly, we were sent out for an hour to lunch.
As I was walking toward the exit I heard you say, "I'm going to run out and get a sandwich, you wanna go?" Why not! So we were off to Marina Gardens. Your name was Jane, you told me. I'm Mary Beth. Neither of us had been on a jury before. This was all new and strange and a little bit fun. Before we knew it lunch was over and it was back to the court room. More questions, more answers. More people dismissed.
At the end of the day, you were dismissed and I was chosen. You smiled and said, "Thanks for being my buddy today!" I joked and said, "It wouldn't have been the same without you!" And that was that.
Two people, tossed together in a call of duty, scared and nervous, making friends for one day. Thank you for that, wherever you are!
Judiciously yours,
Mary Beth
Dear Lady in the Brown Sweater at Jury Duty,
I can remember heading into the court house for jury duty and thinking, "What the heck am I doing here?" I was scared half to death because I had no idea what to expect. I got in the court room and sat near the back as the room started filling with other people who'd been called. We all sat, quietly, as the Court Commissioner explained our duties and how we would know if we were going to be called in. Then, he listened patiently to those who were desperately trying to get out of it. Then, we all got numbers. I thought that was it but no. My number, along with a bunch of others, was called and told to go into the other court room and wait. Apparently, we were starting immediately!
The antechamber of the court room was full of anxious people - me, being one of them. I sat on a ledge, as there were not enough chairs, and you sat next to me. You brought a book with you which I thought was a genius move because this looked like it was going to take a long time. You smiled and said you were nervous. That's the ice breaker and that's all it took. We stuck together all morning waiting, answering questions, more waiting. Then they let half of us go home, but not our half. We were ushered into a court room and into the jury box. We were going to go through viore dire. I'm sure I've spelled that wrong. Attorneys asked us questions over and over again to determined if we would be a good juror for an upcoming case. Then, just as suddenly, we were sent out for an hour to lunch.
As I was walking toward the exit I heard you say, "I'm going to run out and get a sandwich, you wanna go?" Why not! So we were off to Marina Gardens. Your name was Jane, you told me. I'm Mary Beth. Neither of us had been on a jury before. This was all new and strange and a little bit fun. Before we knew it lunch was over and it was back to the court room. More questions, more answers. More people dismissed.
At the end of the day, you were dismissed and I was chosen. You smiled and said, "Thanks for being my buddy today!" I joked and said, "It wouldn't have been the same without you!" And that was that.
Two people, tossed together in a call of duty, scared and nervous, making friends for one day. Thank you for that, wherever you are!
Judiciously yours,
Mary Beth
Thursday, September 15, 2011
30 Letters in 30 Days...Day 26 - The last person you made a pinky promise to
Dear A,
I don't know if this qualifies as a "pinky promise" but it is the last promise I made to anyone and one I intend to keep no matter what. When you made the enormous decision to move here to marry me, I knew whole heartedly that you loved me unconditionally and forever. That decision could not have been an easy one. Moving to a completely different country, into a part of the world you had little experience in, and far away from your family and all that was familiar was a huge sacrifice to make...for us.
When we took our vows I promised to love and honor you for the rest of my life. And I intend to do that. Everyday you show me that this is promise that will be easy to keep because everyday you show me more and more how much you love me.
I promise to always be there for you. I promise to always stand by you. I promise to live with you, laugh with you, cry with you, stand in awe with you, and sometimes just be present when no words are adequate and nothing needs to be said.
Forever. That is my pinky promise to you.
Mary
I don't know if this qualifies as a "pinky promise" but it is the last promise I made to anyone and one I intend to keep no matter what. When you made the enormous decision to move here to marry me, I knew whole heartedly that you loved me unconditionally and forever. That decision could not have been an easy one. Moving to a completely different country, into a part of the world you had little experience in, and far away from your family and all that was familiar was a huge sacrifice to make...for us.
When we took our vows I promised to love and honor you for the rest of my life. And I intend to do that. Everyday you show me that this is promise that will be easy to keep because everyday you show me more and more how much you love me.
I promise to always be there for you. I promise to always stand by you. I promise to live with you, laugh with you, cry with you, stand in awe with you, and sometimes just be present when no words are adequate and nothing needs to be said.
Forever. That is my pinky promise to you.
Mary
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
30 Letters in 30 Days...Day 25. a person you know who is going through the worst of times
Dear K,
I haven't known you very long but in the short time we've known each other you've shared some personal information that I know is difficult. You've been struggling through the days and, sometimes, I see tears and know how hard it is for you.
Divorce is never easy. I know yours has been particularly hard on you what with now having to figure out your financial situation and how to live as a newly single mom. I just want you to know that those decisions that are made at those difficult times are never easy, always hurt and sometimes you hurt people you never thought you'd ever hurt. But it does get better.
You have to trust that. It gets better. Time heals the wounds and you find you have a strength inside that you never knew you had.
And if you ever need an ear or a shoulder...I'm here.
With care,
Mary
I haven't known you very long but in the short time we've known each other you've shared some personal information that I know is difficult. You've been struggling through the days and, sometimes, I see tears and know how hard it is for you.
Divorce is never easy. I know yours has been particularly hard on you what with now having to figure out your financial situation and how to live as a newly single mom. I just want you to know that those decisions that are made at those difficult times are never easy, always hurt and sometimes you hurt people you never thought you'd ever hurt. But it does get better.
You have to trust that. It gets better. Time heals the wounds and you find you have a strength inside that you never knew you had.
And if you ever need an ear or a shoulder...I'm here.
With care,
Mary
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
30 Letters in 30 Days....Day 24. the person who gave you your favourite memory
Dear Dad,
You and Mom gave me so many good memories but one of my favorites came only from you. I was at Parkside and starring as Dolly Levi in The Matchmaker. It was a big role and I was nervous about carrying the lead for the first time. I worked my tail off at rehearsals and felt pretty good about my performance. I felt ready for opening night. And, man oh man, was I nervous.
I don't remember anything about that first opening night performance. It's like that sometimes with acting. You get into a role and become that character and you really zone out the rest of the world. What I do remember is that the audience loved it...and me...and there was an enormous wave of applause at my curtain call. I was completely blown over! But, the best memory part came a little while later when I walked out of the dressing room and you were standing there Dad. You grabbed me in a bear hug and said, "I'm so proud of you!" That was the first time you actually told me that out loud even though I knew that you were always proud of me. I loved that moment and think of it often.
Later, another treasured memory also involves you. I was performing in a series of summer shows at Parkside when you passed away between show weekends. I missed the pick up rehearsal because of your death. I just couldn't rehearse. And I wasn't sure I was going to be able to perform that following weekend either. My director, Lee Van Dyke, a wonderful man to whom I owe a lot, called me and let me know that the decision was purely mine and he would back me either way. I decided to perform. The show must go on.
I tell ya, Dad, I was numb that first night. I vaguely remember being there but what I do remember is giving myself over completely to my performance. It was like surrendering my grief to my art and it was something I'd never felt before or since. When I walked out to take my bow at the end the audience ERUPTED in a standing ovation and applauded for the longest time. I looked to my left and right and my co-stars were all standing there applauding too. I walked off stage with tears streaming down my face and Lee said, "You're Dad would be proud of you." And he was right. I know you would have wanted me to do just as I had done. To soldier on, moving forward and getting on with life even though I was hurting so badly inside.
Oh, there are so many other great memories, Dad. I treasure all of them. I love you...always have, always will.
Your scoochbug,
Mary Beth
You and Mom gave me so many good memories but one of my favorites came only from you. I was at Parkside and starring as Dolly Levi in The Matchmaker. It was a big role and I was nervous about carrying the lead for the first time. I worked my tail off at rehearsals and felt pretty good about my performance. I felt ready for opening night. And, man oh man, was I nervous.
I don't remember anything about that first opening night performance. It's like that sometimes with acting. You get into a role and become that character and you really zone out the rest of the world. What I do remember is that the audience loved it...and me...and there was an enormous wave of applause at my curtain call. I was completely blown over! But, the best memory part came a little while later when I walked out of the dressing room and you were standing there Dad. You grabbed me in a bear hug and said, "I'm so proud of you!" That was the first time you actually told me that out loud even though I knew that you were always proud of me. I loved that moment and think of it often.
Later, another treasured memory also involves you. I was performing in a series of summer shows at Parkside when you passed away between show weekends. I missed the pick up rehearsal because of your death. I just couldn't rehearse. And I wasn't sure I was going to be able to perform that following weekend either. My director, Lee Van Dyke, a wonderful man to whom I owe a lot, called me and let me know that the decision was purely mine and he would back me either way. I decided to perform. The show must go on.
I tell ya, Dad, I was numb that first night. I vaguely remember being there but what I do remember is giving myself over completely to my performance. It was like surrendering my grief to my art and it was something I'd never felt before or since. When I walked out to take my bow at the end the audience ERUPTED in a standing ovation and applauded for the longest time. I looked to my left and right and my co-stars were all standing there applauding too. I walked off stage with tears streaming down my face and Lee said, "You're Dad would be proud of you." And he was right. I know you would have wanted me to do just as I had done. To soldier on, moving forward and getting on with life even though I was hurting so badly inside.
Oh, there are so many other great memories, Dad. I treasure all of them. I love you...always have, always will.
Your scoochbug,
Mary Beth
Monday, September 12, 2011
30 Letters in 30 Days...Day 23. the last person you kissed
Dear Alex,
Well, you know.
Jag alskar dig!
Mary
Well, you know.
Jag alskar dig!
Mary
Sunday, September 11, 2011
30 Letters in 30 Days...Day 22. someone who deserves a second chance
Dear S,
A while back you came to me for a job interview. You did a great interview, I have to tell ya! I liked you instantly and wanted to hire you. So I did.
Later, after working for me for a month or so, you came to me, very upset, because something that happened on your previous job was now coming to a head and it was important that you told me. It was something that could have killed your chances of ever working again. Something you did, breaking the law, and now were having to pay the consequences. You never told me this at the time you applied for the job I had open. Now, after hiring you, I saw that you were actually a good employee and trying really hard to keep it all together.
That day you cried in my office, begging me not to fire you. I had to go to HR with what you told me and ultimately the decision would be theirs. But...
I also thought you deserved a second chance. You admitted, albeit later than you should have, that you were going through something awful when your actions took that turn for the worse. In the time you worked for me, I only saw a good employee, a team player, someone intent on doing the right thing and working your hardest. I also took that to HR. So when the question came, "do you think we should let her go?" My answer was "No!" Second chances don't come around very often. You just don't get them when you need them and you don't often get the chance to be the person doling one out.
But that day, I did. And you got your chance. And you didn't let me down!
Later, when our agency moved onto another program and you were faced with finding work again. I was more than happy to give you a glowing recommendation. I was honest with those who called and they told me that you had already been upfront with them about the other trouble you had dealt with. I was happy to hear that you learned from our experience together.
I don't know where you're working now but I hope your life is in order and you are in a good place. And I hope someday you get the chance to pass along a second chance to someone else. It really is worth it!
With good thoughts,
Mary Beth
A while back you came to me for a job interview. You did a great interview, I have to tell ya! I liked you instantly and wanted to hire you. So I did.
Later, after working for me for a month or so, you came to me, very upset, because something that happened on your previous job was now coming to a head and it was important that you told me. It was something that could have killed your chances of ever working again. Something you did, breaking the law, and now were having to pay the consequences. You never told me this at the time you applied for the job I had open. Now, after hiring you, I saw that you were actually a good employee and trying really hard to keep it all together.
That day you cried in my office, begging me not to fire you. I had to go to HR with what you told me and ultimately the decision would be theirs. But...
I also thought you deserved a second chance. You admitted, albeit later than you should have, that you were going through something awful when your actions took that turn for the worse. In the time you worked for me, I only saw a good employee, a team player, someone intent on doing the right thing and working your hardest. I also took that to HR. So when the question came, "do you think we should let her go?" My answer was "No!" Second chances don't come around very often. You just don't get them when you need them and you don't often get the chance to be the person doling one out.
But that day, I did. And you got your chance. And you didn't let me down!
Later, when our agency moved onto another program and you were faced with finding work again. I was more than happy to give you a glowing recommendation. I was honest with those who called and they told me that you had already been upfront with them about the other trouble you had dealt with. I was happy to hear that you learned from our experience together.
I don't know where you're working now but I hope your life is in order and you are in a good place. And I hope someday you get the chance to pass along a second chance to someone else. It really is worth it!
With good thoughts,
Mary Beth
Saturday, September 10, 2011
30 Letters in 30 Days...Day 21. someone you judged on a first impression
Dear C,
When I first met you I saw your longish shaggy unkempt hair and your tendency to go whichever way the crowd went and I didn't give you too much attention because I thought you were just one of those people who came in, stayed a while, and faded away without having anything to contribute. Then, I spent that one hysterical night with you where we ended up at some gold lame piano bar with a guy named Turk who kept buying us drink after drink. I remember being in the ladies room with you, both of us knowing that we'd feel a whole lot better if we could just get rid of some of the alcohol that was now inside us, but neither of us having the guts to make ourselves throw up. We laughed ourselves silly. My last sight of you, as I exited the very ornate middle Eastern cab, was of you waving through the back window, a huge grin on your face, your braces shining in the street lights.
I have to admit. That one experience with you changed my impression of you forever. You were no longer expendable. You were a real live person and one that could kick some serious ass.
I've seen you since then, working with your puppets, your hair now short and tidy and you have grown into an amazingly beautiful artistic woman.
So, what have I learned? Probably not much. I think I still make rash decisions about people's character sometimes bases on my first impressions. But maybe I'm not quite so quick to judge...maybe I will find the butterfly in that cocoon.
Now, don't get me started about that Turk guy! LOL
In friendship,
Mare
When I first met you I saw your longish shaggy unkempt hair and your tendency to go whichever way the crowd went and I didn't give you too much attention because I thought you were just one of those people who came in, stayed a while, and faded away without having anything to contribute. Then, I spent that one hysterical night with you where we ended up at some gold lame piano bar with a guy named Turk who kept buying us drink after drink. I remember being in the ladies room with you, both of us knowing that we'd feel a whole lot better if we could just get rid of some of the alcohol that was now inside us, but neither of us having the guts to make ourselves throw up. We laughed ourselves silly. My last sight of you, as I exited the very ornate middle Eastern cab, was of you waving through the back window, a huge grin on your face, your braces shining in the street lights.
I have to admit. That one experience with you changed my impression of you forever. You were no longer expendable. You were a real live person and one that could kick some serious ass.
I've seen you since then, working with your puppets, your hair now short and tidy and you have grown into an amazingly beautiful artistic woman.
So, what have I learned? Probably not much. I think I still make rash decisions about people's character sometimes bases on my first impressions. But maybe I'm not quite so quick to judge...maybe I will find the butterfly in that cocoon.
Now, don't get me started about that Turk guy! LOL
In friendship,
Mare
Friday, September 9, 2011
30 Letters in 30 Days...Day 20: the one who broke my heart...
Dear R,
A long time ago, in another lifetime, I was head over heels, act like a fool, in love with you. Everyone we worked with thought we would be perfect together and I feel right into that trap and started thinking that too.
Oh, it started out all nice. You showed some interest. Even took me to dinner and a movie a couple of times which led me to believe that you liked me too. But, you didn't really.
So, while my heart was getting caught up in "does he like me" and "I love him", yours was showing indifference. I let myself get caught up in the drama of wanting a relationship so badly that I wasn't even seeing the signs clearly.
So, I can't blame you that my heart was broken. That is fully on me. I've learned since then to be more aware of what the reality is and not get caught up in the fantasy.
Sincerely and now fully healed,
Mary
A long time ago, in another lifetime, I was head over heels, act like a fool, in love with you. Everyone we worked with thought we would be perfect together and I feel right into that trap and started thinking that too.
Oh, it started out all nice. You showed some interest. Even took me to dinner and a movie a couple of times which led me to believe that you liked me too. But, you didn't really.
So, while my heart was getting caught up in "does he like me" and "I love him", yours was showing indifference. I let myself get caught up in the drama of wanting a relationship so badly that I wasn't even seeing the signs clearly.
So, I can't blame you that my heart was broken. That is fully on me. I've learned since then to be more aware of what the reality is and not get caught up in the fantasy.
Sincerely and now fully healed,
Mary
Sunday, September 4, 2011
30 Letters in 30 Days...Day 19: someone I can't get out of my head...
Dear Mr. Bingham,
A day or so ago I listened to the voice messages that were released of your mom and those who loved you trying to reach you on September 11, 2001. You mom was calling and telling you what little detail she knew about what was going on that morning. You were on Flight 93. The last message she left told you that these were terrorists on your plane, and they meant to crash the plane into some building as the others had, and then, in a show of bravery she told you to get with the other passengers and take over the plane if you could. And that's just what you all tried to do...
I've been thinking about you and the others since hearing her voice. I've also been thinking of the incredible strength of that woman who, knowing this was not going to end well, encouraged you to try...to do...in a calm voice, matter of factly, in a situation where others would probably be overrun with emotion. Her words, and your actions, saved lives that day even though yours was lost.
Sept 11 impacted us all in ways that we may never really be able to explain. I have memories of that day and the following nights and months where there was an overall numbness in everyone you'd meet. I still have trouble explaining the feelings I had at that time to anyone who didn't experience it as an American.
I'm proud of you, Mr. Bingham. And proud of the others who stood up in their last moments to try to stop terrorism. That's why I keep thinking about the extraordinary measures you took, the strength of a mother telling her only son to fight them, and I wonder...would I have been that strong, that brave?
With respect,
Mary
A day or so ago I listened to the voice messages that were released of your mom and those who loved you trying to reach you on September 11, 2001. You mom was calling and telling you what little detail she knew about what was going on that morning. You were on Flight 93. The last message she left told you that these were terrorists on your plane, and they meant to crash the plane into some building as the others had, and then, in a show of bravery she told you to get with the other passengers and take over the plane if you could. And that's just what you all tried to do...
I've been thinking about you and the others since hearing her voice. I've also been thinking of the incredible strength of that woman who, knowing this was not going to end well, encouraged you to try...to do...in a calm voice, matter of factly, in a situation where others would probably be overrun with emotion. Her words, and your actions, saved lives that day even though yours was lost.
Sept 11 impacted us all in ways that we may never really be able to explain. I have memories of that day and the following nights and months where there was an overall numbness in everyone you'd meet. I still have trouble explaining the feelings I had at that time to anyone who didn't experience it as an American.
I'm proud of you, Mr. Bingham. And proud of the others who stood up in their last moments to try to stop terrorism. That's why I keep thinking about the extraordinary measures you took, the strength of a mother telling her only son to fight them, and I wonder...would I have been that strong, that brave?
With respect,
Mary
Friday, September 2, 2011
30 Letters in 30 Days....Day Eighteen: the person I want to be...
Dear Me,
Okay, listen up. While I think you've been doing pretty good for the most part there are some areas of you that need a little work. Yes, yes...you've gone quite far as you are but, honestly, there is room for improvement!
1. Lose weight already! Life long struggle aside...you know there is more you can do to make this happen. So do it!
2. Stop pushing away your creative side. You love to draw, sing, paint, act...so...go and do it! What the hell are you waiting for! You're much happier when you're doing that stuff so why aren't you doing it? You know how many people wish they could do those things? Yes, you do. Yet you just do it.
3. You always say you want to travel. So travel already! There are places right here in the US you haven't seen so what's stopping you. Yosemite? Grand Canyon? Rocky Mountains? Alaska? All places you want to see in your lifetime and yet you haven't seen any of them! Get to it!
Okay, there are some things you're pretty good about too. You're kind. That's a very positive thing. You're a good listener without being overly sympathetic. That's also a good thing. You have a good sense of humor too. Always a plus. But, c'mon, get working on the rest of you!
Okay, listen up. While I think you've been doing pretty good for the most part there are some areas of you that need a little work. Yes, yes...you've gone quite far as you are but, honestly, there is room for improvement!
1. Lose weight already! Life long struggle aside...you know there is more you can do to make this happen. So do it!
2. Stop pushing away your creative side. You love to draw, sing, paint, act...so...go and do it! What the hell are you waiting for! You're much happier when you're doing that stuff so why aren't you doing it? You know how many people wish they could do those things? Yes, you do. Yet you just do it.
3. You always say you want to travel. So travel already! There are places right here in the US you haven't seen so what's stopping you. Yosemite? Grand Canyon? Rocky Mountains? Alaska? All places you want to see in your lifetime and yet you haven't seen any of them! Get to it!
Okay, there are some things you're pretty good about too. You're kind. That's a very positive thing. You're a good listener without being overly sympathetic. That's also a good thing. You have a good sense of humor too. Always a plus. But, c'mon, get working on the rest of you!
Thursday, September 1, 2011
30 Letters in 30 Days....Day Seventeen: someone from my childhood...
Dear Mr. Freeman,
When I was a very little girl, my mom would often send me outside to play just to get me out of her hair. I would wander down the street, past the back door of my Dad's restaurant, past the rickety fence, and past your shop where you would be working all alone on a car or two. If I timed it right I would get past your shop just about the time you would be opening up the brown bag that held your lunch. I think Mrs. Freeman made your lunch each day. At least I like to think she did. If it was lunch time I would wander in the big open garage doors and say hello. You'd always smile and pick me up to sit on one of those big metal oil drums and then you'd open the brown bag and we'd share your sandwich or cookies or fried chicken and I'd ask you a million and a half questions and you'd answer them as best you could. You were one of the kindest people I'd ever met and I was absolutely fascinated with your dark brown skin and white, white teeth. You see, back then, I didn't see too many African American people. In fact, until I met you, I didn't even know there were African American people.
I know that sounds insane but that was a different time and place. Not one for the better either because I have to believe that we have taken some steps to live as equal partners in this world. But then, you were it for me!
I vaguely recall how volatile that time was. I remember seeing race riots on the TV news that my Dad watched. I was too young to understand what was going on but the sight of the police pushing angry mobs back or using fire hoses scared me! I didn't know why they would do that because my Mom always told me that the police were my friend but those police officers on the news did NOT look very friendly. They looked mean and that scared me!
I remember meeting your son once. He was a teen ager or older back then. I was about 4 years old I think and at your shop sharing a root beer. He came in and was very upset that I was there. I don't remember everything he said but I do remember him calling me a "stupid little white girl" and I remember you became upset too. I think he called you some names and said some more stuff about white people and then he left in a hurry in the car you fixed up for him. I remember that so clearly.
When I told my Mom about sharing your lunch once in a while she told me that you were a very nice man and that I shouldn't bother you when you were working. But later that day she sent me over with a brown bag of my own - this time filled with sandwiches and cupcakes for both of us. It was her way of saying thank you for being so tolerant of a mooching little kid like me. My Dad liked you too. I remember you came to the bar once in a while and my Dad would like talking to you for a long time. I would sit at the end of the bar and listen. My Dad was a talker, for sure, but you also seemed to enjoy those conversations.
When I went to kindergarten I met my teacher, the second African American person I can remember, or at least the second to impact my life. Her name was Mrs. Listenbee. She was the smartest, most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I remember asking her if she knew you. My kindergartener mind thought all people with brown skin must know each other. I know now that's crazy but at that age I didn't know any better. She smiled at my question and said that she didn't know you but then asked me about you and listened intently when I told her that you were one of my best friends.
The old bar and restaurant are long gone and so is your shop. I still wonder what ever happened to you and if you ever remember me. I also wonder if your son still feels so much hatred for "stupid little white girls". I hope not. I hope he has met some white people who have been decent and kind and not prejudiced.
Thanks for the sandwiches, Mr. Freeman! And thanks for the life lessons too!
Your friend,
Mary Beth
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
30 Letters in 30 Days....Day Sixteen: someone not in my state or country...
Dear Jan,
I want to be able to tell you that I love you as my father-in-law. I can see that you are very important to Alex and how you have influenced him in many ways. Ways he may not even realize. When we come to Sweden, I enjoy spending time with you so much. I love how openly frank you are in conversation! Sometimes, I have to admit, some of the things you say take me by surprise but they are always interesting. I like how you try to engage me in debate about how things are in the US compared to Sweden. Or how "these days" things are so much different or worse or better than "those days".
I know it's hard for you. I think you are, by nature, a loner. I don't know if your other children understand that about you or, if they do, understand why you would be that way. Yet, when I have been with you I get the sense that deep down you do enjoy the company of others, just a level you can tolerate. I find you pleasant to be around and interesting to talk to and I always get the feeling that you feel the same way about me.
I thank you for accepting me in your life. I know the age difference between Alex and me is something not everyone understands. But you have embraced me as your family and I love you for that. I worry about you. As you age and as your eyesight gets worse I know that you will want to stay in your apartment and be as independent as possible and that might not be possible. I often talk about moving there to care for you in your golden years or talking you into moving here to be with us.
I know we'll have many more opportunities to talk, to laugh and to get to know each other even better. I look forward to it! I feel that Sweden is in my future. Living there is my dream. And to be near family would be wonderful.
Please take care of yourself and know that you have a friend in me!
With love,
Mary
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
30 Letters in 30 Days....Day Fifteen: someone I miss the most...
Dear Mom,
I miss you. Seems silly to say that since you're still with us but I miss the you you always were. I know hard these last couple of years have been on you. I know how difficult it was to have to move out of your home when, I know, that was the place you had hoped to be at the end of your life. Then, who could have imagined that you would have the stroke and now would be trapped in a body that does not work and does not let you say what's on your mind. I feel your frustration.
I miss your laughter. There hasn't been much of it lately. You always had a mischievous sense of humor, often making jokes at our expense, and then giggling at your own jokes. I miss how you would ask me if I wanted something to drink and that almost always meant you wanted me to make you a good martini. I miss those times when we were the only ones at home together, after Dad passed, and how we would talk about anything and everything. I just miss you, Mom.
I intend to spend as much time as possible now with you because I know these moments are passing quickly and you will soon be gone. I will miss you forever when that happens. I hope you know that it's because of you that I am the woman I am today. You taught me well and made me think and challenged me to be the best, most decent human being I can be.
I love you. Always.
Mary Beth
I miss you. Seems silly to say that since you're still with us but I miss the you you always were. I know hard these last couple of years have been on you. I know how difficult it was to have to move out of your home when, I know, that was the place you had hoped to be at the end of your life. Then, who could have imagined that you would have the stroke and now would be trapped in a body that does not work and does not let you say what's on your mind. I feel your frustration.
I miss your laughter. There hasn't been much of it lately. You always had a mischievous sense of humor, often making jokes at our expense, and then giggling at your own jokes. I miss how you would ask me if I wanted something to drink and that almost always meant you wanted me to make you a good martini. I miss those times when we were the only ones at home together, after Dad passed, and how we would talk about anything and everything. I just miss you, Mom.
I intend to spend as much time as possible now with you because I know these moments are passing quickly and you will soon be gone. I will miss you forever when that happens. I hope you know that it's because of you that I am the woman I am today. You taught me well and made me think and challenged me to be the best, most decent human being I can be.
I love you. Always.
Mary Beth
Monday, August 29, 2011
30 Letters in 30 Days...Day Fourteen: someone I drifted away from...
Dear P,
I'm going to start out by saying, I love you and always will. You're my sister, after all, and nothing can ever really get in the way of that. We used to be so close though we didn't start out that way. I know that when we were kids I was more of a pain in your butt than I will ever admit out loud! LOL But over time, we got closer and used to confide in each other all the time. We were especially close in those days right after your divorce. You would always tell me what was on your mind and I'd try as best I could to support you through the rough time.
Oh, we still see each other every week but there have been some noticeable changes in our relationship. Our views on life in general have changed drastically. I no longer believe in god and you are a devout Catholic in the way our mother has always been and with that change you tend to try to "guilt" me into believing. I have my reasons but know that you won't hear them. You have also become, for reasons unknown to me, a staunch Conservative in your political views. I find I cannot even discuss anything remotely political with you because you only see things in the broadest terms and refuse to see the grey areas in life. A lot of good, hard working people fall into the cracks of those gray areas and it scares me a bit that you think they are there because they haven't worked hard enough or wanted to succeed strong enough. So, we do not speak to each other as much as we used to and I have to say that makes me a bit sad.
But know this, I will defend your right to believe what you will and defend you against anyone who makes personal attacks on you because of your beliefs. I love you as a sister and that is stronger than politics, religion or whatever. Maybe one day we'll find some middle ground where we can actually discuss what's happening around us without falling into heated battle. Maybe...we'll see! :)
I love you, P!
Moochie
I'm going to start out by saying, I love you and always will. You're my sister, after all, and nothing can ever really get in the way of that. We used to be so close though we didn't start out that way. I know that when we were kids I was more of a pain in your butt than I will ever admit out loud! LOL But over time, we got closer and used to confide in each other all the time. We were especially close in those days right after your divorce. You would always tell me what was on your mind and I'd try as best I could to support you through the rough time.
Oh, we still see each other every week but there have been some noticeable changes in our relationship. Our views on life in general have changed drastically. I no longer believe in god and you are a devout Catholic in the way our mother has always been and with that change you tend to try to "guilt" me into believing. I have my reasons but know that you won't hear them. You have also become, for reasons unknown to me, a staunch Conservative in your political views. I find I cannot even discuss anything remotely political with you because you only see things in the broadest terms and refuse to see the grey areas in life. A lot of good, hard working people fall into the cracks of those gray areas and it scares me a bit that you think they are there because they haven't worked hard enough or wanted to succeed strong enough. So, we do not speak to each other as much as we used to and I have to say that makes me a bit sad.
But know this, I will defend your right to believe what you will and defend you against anyone who makes personal attacks on you because of your beliefs. I love you as a sister and that is stronger than politics, religion or whatever. Maybe one day we'll find some middle ground where we can actually discuss what's happening around us without falling into heated battle. Maybe...we'll see! :)
I love you, P!
Moochie
Sunday, August 28, 2011
30 Letters in 30 Days...Day Thirteen: Someone I wish I could forgive...
Dear Me,
You spent a lot of time hurting yourself. Too much time. And you've come a long, long way. But there are things in your past that, when brought up or thought of, make you instantly feel that guilt all over again.
Take your first marriage, for instance. You said "for better or worse" and when it got worse, you got out. Part of you will always feel that you failed. It's okay to forgive yourself for that but you probably never will. Hearts were broken, people got hurt and that was because of your decision to act on your own behalf. Does that make you selfish? Sometimes it feels that way. That's why you can't forgive yourself.
Take growing up, for instance. Some of what happened should never have happened. Certainly, you did nothing to make it happen but you still feel guilty and wrong. Probably always will. You've gone a long way to get over that crap but there is still that seed of guilt that pops up once in a while. It's what makes you feel responsible for the world, taking on other people's problems and trying to counsel everyone but yourself. Let it go already, girl. Just let it go!
Some things have changed for the better though. You're starting to see yourself through the eyes of someone who loves you very much and that has made a huge difference. You still haven't totally forgiven yourself but you are beginning to see that it's possible.
Hang in there, girl. You're getting better. It all takes time. Just breathe...and remember, you can forgive yourself. Whenever you're ready.
Love,
Me
You spent a lot of time hurting yourself. Too much time. And you've come a long, long way. But there are things in your past that, when brought up or thought of, make you instantly feel that guilt all over again.
Take your first marriage, for instance. You said "for better or worse" and when it got worse, you got out. Part of you will always feel that you failed. It's okay to forgive yourself for that but you probably never will. Hearts were broken, people got hurt and that was because of your decision to act on your own behalf. Does that make you selfish? Sometimes it feels that way. That's why you can't forgive yourself.
Take growing up, for instance. Some of what happened should never have happened. Certainly, you did nothing to make it happen but you still feel guilty and wrong. Probably always will. You've gone a long way to get over that crap but there is still that seed of guilt that pops up once in a while. It's what makes you feel responsible for the world, taking on other people's problems and trying to counsel everyone but yourself. Let it go already, girl. Just let it go!
Some things have changed for the better though. You're starting to see yourself through the eyes of someone who loves you very much and that has made a huge difference. You still haven't totally forgiven yourself but you are beginning to see that it's possible.
Hang in there, girl. You're getting better. It all takes time. Just breathe...and remember, you can forgive yourself. Whenever you're ready.
Love,
Me
Saturday, August 27, 2011
30 Letters in 30 Days...Day Twelve: a person who has caused me pain...
Dear N,
Years ago you did something that altered me for the rest of my life and I have hated you for it ever since. Over time, I've learned to let go of that hatred and think of you only when absolutely necessary which, thankfully, is almost never. Your actions, perpetrated on me when I was so vulnerable, made me hurt myself for years. I kept my feelings inside for so long that I could almost imagine that you did nothing at all. But that, you sorry bastard, is a lie and a couple of years ago I let that inner child have her voice for the first time and I will never again pretend that everything was okay.
I've seen you lately. Old and ruddy, limping and bloated and I have to think that karma is a beautiful bitch. I always notice how you can barely bring yourself to say hello on those occasions when we're forced to be in close proximity. It's just as well. The thought of making small talk with you turns my stomach.
I want you to know that what you did was sick. Just plain sick. The after effects that I had took me years to get over. I blamed myself for a long time. I know that was wrong. I didn't deserve your sickness and I sure as hell won't hold onto it any longer. I am strong now. I have cleansed myself and forgiven me for a time when I thought I should have known better or done better. I almost forgive you...almost. I don't hurt myself anymore. I know better now. I'm not the one who should have been hurting.
One day you will pass and I will think of you then. But I will not weep. My tears will be saved for someone who deserves them. Our paths may cross again, I know. If they do, I will say hello and move away to keep my inner child safe and away from your dark aura.
Have a good life...if you can,
Mary Beth
Years ago you did something that altered me for the rest of my life and I have hated you for it ever since. Over time, I've learned to let go of that hatred and think of you only when absolutely necessary which, thankfully, is almost never. Your actions, perpetrated on me when I was so vulnerable, made me hurt myself for years. I kept my feelings inside for so long that I could almost imagine that you did nothing at all. But that, you sorry bastard, is a lie and a couple of years ago I let that inner child have her voice for the first time and I will never again pretend that everything was okay.
I've seen you lately. Old and ruddy, limping and bloated and I have to think that karma is a beautiful bitch. I always notice how you can barely bring yourself to say hello on those occasions when we're forced to be in close proximity. It's just as well. The thought of making small talk with you turns my stomach.
I want you to know that what you did was sick. Just plain sick. The after effects that I had took me years to get over. I blamed myself for a long time. I know that was wrong. I didn't deserve your sickness and I sure as hell won't hold onto it any longer. I am strong now. I have cleansed myself and forgiven me for a time when I thought I should have known better or done better. I almost forgive you...almost. I don't hurt myself anymore. I know better now. I'm not the one who should have been hurting.
One day you will pass and I will think of you then. But I will not weep. My tears will be saved for someone who deserves them. Our paths may cross again, I know. If they do, I will say hello and move away to keep my inner child safe and away from your dark aura.
Have a good life...if you can,
Mary Beth
Friday, August 26, 2011
30 Letters in 30 Days....Day Eleven: a deceased person...
Dear Grandparents,
You don't know me but I'm your grand daughter. I was born long after you had passed. I've seen your photos. I have them hanging in my apartment actually. And I've heard your stories. That's what has always made me a bit sad that I never knew you.
I loved hearing about how you all came here from somewhere far away and how you had to struggle to set down roots. And I loved hearing about how you all flourished.
Grandma Kelleher - I love that, at the age of 16, you road one of the last existing legs of the Pony Express. That was just before the railroad came to the Dakotas and took that away forever. I have visions of this beautiful girl, long hair streaming behind her in the wind, riding her horse as hard as she can to get the mail to the hand off on time. I'm sure I have romanticized this somewhat but that's how I choose to think you were back then.
Grandpa Kelleher - The picture I have of you on my wall is one where you're standing there, casually leaning against a chair, wearing a vest, holding a watch that's connected to you by a watch fob. You look like you just stepped out of a movie. I know that was taken at the time you were the Sheriff in Park River, ND. I love that. Because even if I didn't know that I would guess, from the picture, that you were the Sheriff of some small western town.
Dad spoke fondly of you...and often. His stories were how I know you. I'm glad he shared them with me.
Grandma Reszke - I've seen pictures of you looking weather worn and hard at work on the farm. There is always great joy in your eyes. I've also seen pictures of you laughing out loud. Many pictures of that, in fact. That tells me, and my mom agrees, that you had a wonderful sense of life and humor. I wish I could have see those joyful eyes in person.
Grandpa Reszke - For you, I feel especially slighted for never knowing you because you actually lived with our family until your death which was right before I was born. My siblings have memories of you in your later years...some good, some not so good as your last days were particularly hard and gruesome. But in photos I see your pride. The photos with your "girls" - Grandma and your 4 beautiful daughters - show a light in your face and smile that tells the world you know how blessed you were. I know how hard you worked on that little farm in Minto to provide for those girls and make sure they had everything they needed to become the strong, beautiful women they are. And I know how you grieved when one of them passed on before you. No father should bury a child. I wish I had known you.
Grandparents, I hope that when you look down from wherever it is you are, you see me as someone to be proud of. I hope that my life is a testament to your collective strength and ability to survive. I love you all, even though I never met you.
Love,
Mary Beth
You don't know me but I'm your grand daughter. I was born long after you had passed. I've seen your photos. I have them hanging in my apartment actually. And I've heard your stories. That's what has always made me a bit sad that I never knew you.
I loved hearing about how you all came here from somewhere far away and how you had to struggle to set down roots. And I loved hearing about how you all flourished.
Grandma Kelleher - I love that, at the age of 16, you road one of the last existing legs of the Pony Express. That was just before the railroad came to the Dakotas and took that away forever. I have visions of this beautiful girl, long hair streaming behind her in the wind, riding her horse as hard as she can to get the mail to the hand off on time. I'm sure I have romanticized this somewhat but that's how I choose to think you were back then.
Grandpa Kelleher - The picture I have of you on my wall is one where you're standing there, casually leaning against a chair, wearing a vest, holding a watch that's connected to you by a watch fob. You look like you just stepped out of a movie. I know that was taken at the time you were the Sheriff in Park River, ND. I love that. Because even if I didn't know that I would guess, from the picture, that you were the Sheriff of some small western town.
Dad spoke fondly of you...and often. His stories were how I know you. I'm glad he shared them with me.
Grandma Reszke - I've seen pictures of you looking weather worn and hard at work on the farm. There is always great joy in your eyes. I've also seen pictures of you laughing out loud. Many pictures of that, in fact. That tells me, and my mom agrees, that you had a wonderful sense of life and humor. I wish I could have see those joyful eyes in person.
Grandpa Reszke - For you, I feel especially slighted for never knowing you because you actually lived with our family until your death which was right before I was born. My siblings have memories of you in your later years...some good, some not so good as your last days were particularly hard and gruesome. But in photos I see your pride. The photos with your "girls" - Grandma and your 4 beautiful daughters - show a light in your face and smile that tells the world you know how blessed you were. I know how hard you worked on that little farm in Minto to provide for those girls and make sure they had everything they needed to become the strong, beautiful women they are. And I know how you grieved when one of them passed on before you. No father should bury a child. I wish I had known you.
Grandparents, I hope that when you look down from wherever it is you are, you see me as someone to be proud of. I hope that my life is a testament to your collective strength and ability to survive. I love you all, even though I never met you.
Love,
Mary Beth
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