LOVE LETTERS:Expressions of love are as many and as varied as the people who write them. Here is a tale of a Rolodex stuffed with mementoes and billets doux. And we reprint a treasured letter, one of many kindly sent to us by readers, writes FIONA MCCANN
THE WORDS ROLODEX and romance don’t often trip off the tongue together.
Let’s face it, office supplies aren’t generally synonymous with untrammelled affection. And yet to me, my Rolodex is more romantic than red roses, worth more to me than fancy jewels and a daily reminder, as I sit at my desk, of the heart-filling joy of love.
Gifted to me by the best of gentlemen back when I didn’t even know what a Rolodex was, every entry has a special significance neatly pared down to a two-inch-by-four-inch card and slotted into this desktop tribute. As the clumsiest person I know, I am apt to drop glasses and slice my own fingers with regular injury, which explains why, under O, I found a Band-Aid stuck to a card that explains it’s “Because your hands don’t always OBEY you.” Under M is the half-torn card from a Magic trick we saw together four years ago, while K contains a poem by Galway Kinnell and F a careful elucidation of the Rolodex creator’s sometimes hard-to-follow Family tree. D has a recipe for Dutch Baby pancakes, S a newspaper clipping of a Suspicious story of a Mafioso death, H the name of a Hotel we stayed in together for his birthday celebrations last year.
There are jokes, messages, cartoons and photographs for every letter of the alphabet. Here is the business card of the coffee shop we used to meet in; here is a note I once left in his wallet; here is a place we’ve been together; here is one we’ve never been and plan to visit.
I’ve been thumbing through this Rolodex for a year now, and I still find surprises between its cardboard dividers, business-card sized missives all handmade, typed, pasted and cut out for my amusement.
This is, however, a working Rolodex, so there are plenty of blank spaces left for me to fill up with article notes and contacts, yet still my own journalistic entries get flicked over in favour of lines from Tony Hoagland or a carefully folded New Yorker cartoon. Thus has a desktop organiser become my most prized possession, an A to Z of something cherished, a home-made gift of cardboard and plastic, original price $14.73.
The Irish TimesMagazine
24-28 Tara Street
Dublin 2
Dear Sirs,
My husband, George Meredith, and I married in 1974. Our first marriages had failed and we joyfully grasped this new chance of happiness, taking on each other's children (his son and my son and daughter) with a whole heart. Although it sounds OTT to say it, it was a marriage made in heaven. In 1978, when I was 45, less than six years after our marriage, I developed breast cancer and had a mastectomy in the Adelaide Hospital. I enclose a copy of the letter my husband wrote to me while I was there.
This story has the saddest possible ending: I recovered completely from my cancer but on
December 30th, 1984, while G and I were in England celebrating Christmas and his early retirement, which was to start two days later, he died of a heart attack. He was only 56 and no man had ever looked forward to retirement more. I suppose it's a small measure of comfort that his death was sudden and he didn't have to suffer the dreadful disappointment of knowing that all our plans for a golden future together were to come to nothing. I continue to think that it was better to have loved and lost him than never to have had the joy of loving him (and being loved by him) at all.
Yours sincerely,
Jane Meredith
Cabinteely
Dublin 18
To my own very dearest lovely wife
My Darling Jane
My Sweetest Chicksey, alias chickwick
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth
and height My soul can reach . . .
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle light . . .
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith . . .
I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life!
Some of the ways far better expressed than ever I could. They give you some idea of what you are to me – how precious you are to me – how precious you are to me – how much I need you, and love you.
When you read this letter, you can pretend, or imagine that I am sitting beside you, holding your hand in mine and I am looking most lovingly into your blue eyes. The days are long without you and I think about you constantly – always longing for the next visiting time, so that I can hold your hand again and look at you, and tell you lots of times that I love you.
How I wish I could do more for you, because sometimes when I sit beside you I feel so helpless. All my prayers and willing are for you and for your quick recovery and it pleases me to see you looking so well and to know that you are making such good progress towards coming home where I can take care of you and mind you and love you.
The support and love of all our family has been, and is being wonderful for both of us; and I am sure you can feel it just as strongly as I do from Tim, Judy, Dave as well as Pattie and all the family. Pattie is, of course, coming to see you early next week – nothing will stop her even if she has to swim! and I know how much you are looking forward to that visit.
I am so glad that you find such comfort too from the staff in the Adelaide. One seldom realises what work they do and it all seems to come from the heart and is given so generously and with such kindness, and consideration.
My darling angel I love you I love you I love you always and ever.
You are a very, very Special Person. I know more than anyone else in the world how brave and courageous you have been, and how you have faced this ordeal, and how you have come through it smiling and you have truly been an inspiration to all your loved ones. I hope that the days will pass quickly for you until you are home again. Home is where you are wanted, where you will be loved and cared for, and where you are awaited with loving hearts.
The news from Dr Barber, that you are going to be well, and make a complete recovery has filled me with such joy that I feel I could explode. He was so pleased to be able to tell me that news and I know it made him very happy for us both.
And so, early next week I shall be able to make plans for that longed for holiday, when I can take you away and spoil you and mind you and love you and, selfishly, have you all to myself for ages and ages!
How do I love thee?
Forever and always.
Your most loving husband
George xxxxxxxxxx