Flashback: Letter to Parents
A search through my file cabinet for a particular piece I wrote eons ago unearthed some random amusement from past attempts to slay boredom with a pen. (Old school stuff -- I had my choice of a pen, pencil, or a typewriter, not a computer.)
circa 1987
It's April, do you know where your parents are? Do your parents know who you are? Have they forgotten you? When is the last time you received a letter that ended "... and your little brother shaved the cat last week. Be good and try not to study too hard. Love, Mom and Dad"
It has been quite awhile since my mailbox was last graced with the presence of such a letter, so I decided to write home and attempt to get to the root of the problem...
circa 1987
It's April, do you know where your parents are? Do your parents know who you are? Have they forgotten you? When is the last time you received a letter that ended "... and your little brother shaved the cat last week. Be good and try not to study too hard. Love, Mom and Dad"
It has been quite awhile since my mailbox was last graced with the presence of such a letter, so I decided to write home and attempt to get to the root of the problem...
To Whom It May Confuse (Mom & Dad),
I was sitting in front of my empty mailbox, wallowing in self pity and decided that I ought to write to you. It seems to me that you do, but I sure hope that you don't, subscribe to the "out of sight out of mind" point of view. I may not be at home, but I do still exist.
Well, have you invested in stamps yet? Found the Post Office on the map? Unearthed my address from that stack of party invitations that make it so difficult to find the time to write?
You do--I should hope--remember my name. If not, I think my birth certificate is in your file cabinet. It should help to refresh your memories of my name and verify both my existence and relationship to you.
If that doesn't work, check your dresser for pictures. I'm the one wearing the white sheet and the square frisbee hat getting an empty envelope for high school graduation. They did give me a diploma after I returned the sheet. If you want to see the diploma and verify that the name matches the one on the birth certificate, check the floor of my closet.
Remember me yet?
I'm the one of threw up on your shoulder after amost every meal for the first phase of my existence.
In first grade, I kicked my "Inch-High Private Eye" lunchbox home from school until you broke down and boght me a soccer ball.
If none of the above hit any memory nerves, I'm sure this will: Those demands for outrageous sums of money that you have been receiving and paying? They are not actually ransom notes or blackmail threats. It's my tuition.
Well, I'll be watching for news from you.
Your Daughter
P.S. Please send food and money -- not necessarily in that order.
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