Re-reading mom’s mail

My mother became my pen pal in 1979, when she and dad moved to Sunrise Florida. She wrote one letter every week until dementia took hold of her memory 15 years later. I saved them all and have them in my closet in a bright pink and white decorated box. It warms my heart to pull them out every so often and relive my mom’s later years.

“Today your father and I went to the doctor. I make the doctors laugh when I sign in as Mr. and Mrs. “Shnoorer” and ask for lots of drug samples. Your father gets angry when I do it … but it’s fun.”

She was so funny!

My letters back to her were never long enough or clever enough to match her wit and creative writing skills. I wish I had tried harder. I would simply report what everyone was up to and how proud she would be of my kids.

“Your father and I sat at the swimming pool all afternoon and the same people repeated the same stories to us over and over again. I feel like I’m talking to broken records down here.” Spending time there on vacations I sat at that pool too. She wasn’t kidding.

“I joined the choral group and am having the time of my life. I get to sing “Memories” and everyone cheers me on.” 

She enjoyed her retirement. She wrote about everything that made her happy.

“Everything I love is free, she’d write …“I’m walking in the early dawn with my headphones plugged into my little radio on a path to long life and  good health. The sun, the sky are all mine for the taking.”

Her life was her diary by mail.

She wrote  letters to my daughter, Joanna, encouraging her to practice piano for she was brilliant at it. She wrote to my son, Paul to join the chorus and “show the world how talented he is.”

The happy smile  drawing at the end  of each letter near  her love mom were her signature good-bye. More personal than an email or text … the letters are forever.

When I want to remember my mom’s happiest years and delve into her inner most thoughts, I open my letter box and relive her memories.

Weinberger is a North Woodmere resident.