I found a hand painted fan, dozens of romance novels, and two art projects from my senior year in high school in the bedroom of my childhood home.
My parents bought me the fan in Spain the summer before 8th grade. I practiced until I could open and shut it with a flick of the wrist. I practiced until the fan appeared to open on will alone. I felt ridiculously bad ass. I was 12.
I listened to Steve Miller Band on repeat my senior year in high school. Clearly. Also in heavy rotation was The Police, Bad Company, Elton John, The Eagles (possibly my favorite band ever), Billy Joel, The Cars, Van Morrison, Bruce Springsteen, and Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. I liked O.M.D. in the 7th grade, Grandmaster Flash in the 8th grade, Cyndi Lauper in the 9th grade, and The Cure in the 10th grade. Boy, did I like The Cure. Most of the other 80s music I could do without. I never liked Duran Duran.
I married a man who adores 80s music and can name that tune with only one note from the synthesizer. He married a woman who reads romance novels. In a sense, we’re even.
I found love letters, cards, and the beginning chapters of three different stories in a lock box in our garage. The Mister had to break it open because we couldn’t find the key.
I annoyed him this week with all the letters and memorabilia. He’s too polite to say anything, but I can tell. A trip down memory lane is best traveled with the people with whom you shared the journey. He liked looking at the pictures of me in high school, but there’s only so much enthusiasm a guy can muster for an “I don’t like you” letter written to your then 14 year-old wife.
There were also dozens of love letters from this boy. Wow, that boy. His letters were funny, sweet, and filled with 15 year-old bravado. Everything was possible, everything worth trying. He was invincible. We were invincible. (We weren’t.)
I found the story chapters at the bottom of the box. I wrote them when I was 14 and in my sophomore year. I know this because sophomore year I wrote in all capitals and thought my handwriting looked sophisticated.
Oof.
Bubble writing notwithstanding, the stories are terrible. I haven’t been able to make it past the first paragraph on the first page of each.
Alexandra (preferably called Alex) woke up to birds singing, people talking, breakfast cooking and the terrible fact that school had started once again. She looked at her alarm clock. It read 6:00. She hadn’t been up this early since school. Now, she had to get up at this time every morning for who know’s [sic] how long!
I don’t know, Alexandra. Maybe until your next school break?
Just…no words.
Ah, well. I flicked fans, listened to music, exchanged letters with boys, and wrote terrible stories I thought were brilliant. I did all of it completely and without qualm well over twenty years ago.
The youth gets together his materials to build a bridge to the moon, or, perchance, a palace or temple on the earth, and, at length, the middle-aged man concludes to build a woodshed with them.
—–Henry David Thoreau
Getting older is a strange proposition. On one hand, I don’t feel almost 40. (I don’t think I look almost 40, either.) On the other hand, you couldn’t pay me to relive my teens or twenties. I am happy where I am. I am happy with my life. There are things I would do differently, maybe a decision or two I would like to unmake, but I didn’t build a woodshed. That much I know.
I found similar boxes last year at my parents and it was unsettling. The evenings I spent going through them and reading the letters/notes brought back all of the emotions and insecurities. I ended up throwing most of them away and wishing I hadn’t read them.
About store bought roses, if you blow on the petals they open and look a little more like garden roses.
Some of it was unsettling, but for the most part I lucked out. I have always been pretty good (too good) about throwing away things so most of what would upset me today disappeared a long time ago.
That’s a great tip on the roses!
Jules, did you throw the papers away? I need a boost to purge my high school boyfriend/first husband’s love letters to me + college letters from him and all my good friends. I have been married to husb. #2 for 20 years and there is no feelings about #1 (or kids with him) except the memories of that time –it’s so nostalgic!! feng shui would say prepare for the life you are about to have, not the past you left . . . .
My sister in-law asked me the same thing. I think she feels it might be inappropriate to keep love letters from someone other than my husband. Well, I’m keeping them! I might throw away the break up letter from the other boy. ;) My feelings are very much Annie’s (see comment below).
The way I see it, those letters are part of my history and formed me into the person I am today. I think back on that relationship with the roses and there is a lot I would do differently, and for a long time I hated the guy. Now, looking at these letters, I realize he was just a little boy (15!!) who fell in love for the first time and didn’t know what he was doing anymore than I did.
It’s nice to know you were someone’s first love. That doesn’t mean the love is right or permanent, but it’s still nice to know that someone loved you passionately and (seemingly) without end. My only wish is that I had letters from my husband. I have a few things, but not much. That’s what happens when you meet in your twenties, first loves long over. You’re more sedate and cautious–less likely to pour your heart across pages and fold it into little squares for someone else to keep.
Still, I’m a bit uncomfortable thinking what would happen if I died and my sons found these letters. Since that boy is now a family friend and we all go out together as families on occasion, I’m sure the boys would be shell shocked to read some of his letters to me. ;) I decided last week that I am going to gather all the letters together and put them in an envelope with a letter explaining to them what they are and who they are from.
I imagine my husband has no clue why I’m keeping them, but he’s not exactly a sentimental person. I had to beg him to keep his high school year books last week when we were cleaning out the garage.
I agree … but isn’t it fun to take a jaunt back in time now and again? I did that awhile back (it could have been two years ago, for all I know … I’ll have to go back and check my blog post :) I found my scrapbook, classroom notes {which, by the way, I was never able to refold}, the first stories I wrote for class (2nd grade), and poetry from Junior High. Good times …
SO fun, Amy. It’s been really fun.
Oh, that Thoreau quote killed me. It’s so true and so disheartening. The feelings wrapped up in that quote are the exact reason that I’m stalling from writing. I KNOW how bad it was when I was 16, and I know how great I thought it was. My fear of that happening all over again is preventing me from writing.
You have to keep on keeping on, Kylydia. I’m in the same boat, but something might have clicked for me in the last few months. I have to at least try, and you do, too. Otherwise, you’ll always wonder “what if…”
This reminded me of this Madeleine L’Engle quote: “The great thing about getting older is that you don’t lose all the other ages you’ve been.” There’s something to be said for those silly stories (I found some I wrote when I was in high school – I had been so proud of them, and they’re so, so terrible!) and long-lost love letters. And while I think some deserve to be thrown out with the garbage, I know, too, that I want to save some. For my future children, sure, but mostly just for me. To know I did all that, and I loved myself and the life I lived.
Ah, the Brillo poster. Just as I remember it. You are looking pretty hot! What are you doing? Tell me all of your secrets.
I’m still fat. I just know how to position myself in front of the camera.
As for what I am doing, I eat like a monk and I’m standing in full sun to hide my pores and wrinkles. Or are you asking me what lip gloss I’m wearing? ;)
Oh, I love your fan flicking self, and you photos are so pretty:) And the comment above?! You, oh, you…
Except for that last sentence, I really don’t think your paragraph was so bad. God knows I saw much, much worse back during my MFA program!
And, I too am a big fan of both The Eagles and The Cure, even though you’d think they would cancel each other out!
I would like to know what lipgloss you’re wearing?! LOL :-) love you!
The one I told you to buy three months ago on Facebook. (*cough*) ;)
It’s Tea Rose Tint by Bobbi Brown.
I went through a sentimental phase when I was 14 or 15, and I used to write “letters to my future husband.” They were ridiculous, and silly, and not something I would -ever- show my non-sentimental husband. I found one in a box after we got married, and hid it in my sock drawer – its so ridiculous and funny, but part of me remembers being that 15 year old girl, and I don’t want anyone else to make fun of her.
oh man such a fun post. And I was just telling Art the other day too that i don’t feel like I look 35 and I certainly don’t feel 35. Are we just delusional or just wiser and more appreciative? I’d like to think the latter..and the Cars rocked my world. As well as Morrissey & The Smiths. I never liked Duran Duran either, still don’t.