Does it feel like something new happens every day? Are too many things going on? Ever wanted a day to just sit quietly and wait for the next day? Even though I’m retired with “nothing to do” the number of things going on can be overwhelming. Then we get to a letter like this one from Lucy. Her life was just as full from the beginning.

Most of her letters have been focused on one topic; Sweet Adelines, a school story, meeting Ken, or sending Judy to school. Now we get a letter that’s kind of like my day; a series of disconnected items, every one of them fun and exciting in its own way. But there are so many little stories that I really don’t know much about.

Grandpa's garage in Gardner

Grandpa’s garage in Gardner

A wonderful part of reading Lucy’s letters, and those from Louie, Grace, and Jim, has been the revelation that they all had lives. Just regular lives, full of challenges. Their challenges were different from ours. We each face them in our own way, coming out the other side in good shape, happy to go on for another day. Having gotten a glimpse of Lucy’s life in this letter of one-liners, I’m left with a need to spend time asking her about each little story.

I should have done that ten years ago.

Lucy writes:

Grandpa Thurlow’s first job was in a blacksmith shop where he learned about metals this is what made him famous for his welding expertise. I saw one of his report cards and he was a straight A student. I always thought of him as someone special.

Grandpa Thurlow + Grandma used to fight some (argue) when Dad talked, Mother walked around the kitchen table and sang so she didn’t have to listen.

I was riding to school with my Dad and I said “There comes a bum” and my dad said “Never call a man a bum.” I never forgot that.

My senior year in High School Mr Uggin our band director told my Mother that I could stay at his home + babysit for my board a room as he wanted me in his band at Moorhead State. My mother had big tears in her eyes and had to admit that she couldn’t afford the tuition of $40.00 per term.

The first time I saw a birth was when Pat came running into the house and asked me to crawl under the porch he had something I shouldn’t miss seeing. Here was my favorite kitten giving birth. We both thought it was so great. Pat had such a wonderful mind I now know why my mother loved him so.

Lucy Letter 044