My sister recently sent me a box of letters I wrote to her in the mid 70s. These are epic letters, written in a kind of journal format. For instance, I’d write a few pages, then in a day or two, would write several more.
The letter I chose randomly out of the box was written prior to the Three Mile Island accident in 1979. The last page describes my horror and fear of being zapped by radiation, after the accident occurred. The experts said we would all die of cancer in 30 years. I am happy to report 40 years has passed and I am cancer free.
This reflection on my life as a result of these letters is interesting and unexpected. Last night, I visited my cousins, also readers of this blog. I told them, “What am I going to do with this box of letters?”
The answer came to me: blog about them.
I am so long-winded in these letters, but now, I find my serious approach to life to be like uncovering another lifetime, many lifetimes within each letter. At the time this letter was written, I was working at a vitamin shop in a local shopping center. I noted some of my observations about undisciplined children, about parenting and what I would do if I became a parent. That particular probability did not happen. The Three Mile Island accident made me feel that bringing little humans into this world was a mistake, for me. More like a mistake for them.
I discuss the many visits to my parents, my mothers reactions to things of the world, my tenuous marriage at the time, my brother, who also was living in the hometown just down the street. Astrological charts and Tarot card readings were also a major interest of all of us.
I discussed meeting a talented gay man who in his presence, my pyramid bracelet popped open. This is something I remember to this day. OM