Gallbladders & Crimes Against Poetry

Dear W,
I'm terribly sorry to have taken so long to answer your lovely letters. Ordinarily, I wouldn't mention the reason, but the coincidence is too unbelievable. I was late in getting my small gifts to you, because - guess - I was having my gallbladder out! Your mother, you mentioned had to have a heart doctor at hand. Because of my asthma/emphysema, I had to have a lung specialist by my side all during the long operation. I had no warning; mine was an emergency. And, surprising to everyone, the whole six weeks is a lovely blank in my mind. I remember nothing. I am just as happy at this, for I've heard a few things about some of the things I said and did that are very embarrassing to me.

When I mailed your package, I knew I had three weeks (at least) to write you before it arrived in Hillsboro. But, with one thing and another, I didn't. And I certainly thought I'd get a note off to you before the poetry books got into your hands, but, as you know, again I didn't. I wanted to tell you not even to bother with Emily Dickinson for some years. And I think every young girl should go through a "Sara Teasdale" period. I can remember how I just loved her all through my teens and maybe a little longer. Then, fortunately or unfortunately, one grows - matures and goes on to other poets. But always there is the remembrance of the joys of Sara Teasdale.

You wrote one sentence that almost made me physically sick. (It did make me ill emotionally, spiritually, psychologically). With all due regard to your teacher, I think it is positively criminal to "take a poem apart line by line". Does one have to take a flower apart leaf by leaf to appreciate it? Would it smell any better? It doesn't matter if one doesn't understand what every word or every line means. Read it for the cadence, the mood, the rhythm. Let it wing your soul heavenwards - as true poetry will and if you ever (in college) get a professor who takes Shakespeare apart like that, get up and walk out - casting him a loathsome glare.

Dear W, when you get a chance write and tell me about your mother - and if you were allowed to date.

Love, E.R.G.

PS
Long before I went to the hospital I sent for your magazine for your birthday. Did you get it plus the card?

Odds and Ends - Thisa and Thata

Dear W,
When I went to get a record for you, I was just overwhelmed at the number and assortment of just the people you like. So, will you please get one you simply ache for - and play it until your family goes crazy?

Thank you so much for that darling picture of the elephant getting a manicure. It will be one of my prize dentries in my collection. And the one of the albino bluebird. In the article (if there were one) did it say if the rest of the babies seemed to know if he were different? I know I've read that with animals, a deformed one was shunned - as was the "runt" of the litter sometimes (cruel as humans!)

You know, every letter you send, I keep hoping for a snap shot of you with your short Princess Di hair cut. It must be so much easier to take care of.

I appoint you a committee of one to find out if Lowell, Massachusetts was named after Amy. Write to the Mayor (always go to the top person): tell him your age, and what you've just discovered about Amy's poetry and her illustrius family. And you wondered.... (I rather hope it wasn't. For as I remember Lowell, it was a cruddy industrial town). Speaking of Lowells, there used to be a satiric little quartrain (ask your parents or your grandmother)
1) _____ speak only to _______
2)______ speak only to _______
3)_____ speak only to Cabots
4) And the Cabots speak only to God.

I'm sure the Lowells were in there, and maybe the Russells. Tell me, if you find out.

I know I couldnt take (start, I mean) two languages at once. Get a year of French, then see if you want to add Spanish the second year. Will you let me get a little sentimental? I just can't tell you how much it has meant to me to have you for a "pen pal" for almost two and a half years - since May 1982. Many of the things I'd taken for granted, suddenly became fresh and exciting because of you. I love your eagerness, your enthusiasm. Your questioning. How I wish I could have had your whole family here for a prolonged visit...

Now, it's almost Christmas - and your fifteenth (15th? are you sure?) birthday the following month. What would you like from Hawaii? (Remember questions get frank answers!) And will you still want "The World" or maybe another magazine?

As I read over some of your early letters, you wanted to be a Park Ranger. Do you still want that? Get to some foreign countries first. See everything youc an.

Tell me about school and your new subjects.

Love always,
E.R.G.

Of Lilacs and Languages

Dear W,
I swear, as I opened your letter, the lovely aroma of lilacs permeated my room. You were so dear and thoughtful to remember - and sent the little blossoms. I immediately went to my poetry books to see what the poets had to say about lilacs. I especially like Amy Lowell:

"Heart leaves of lilac
all over New England,
Roots of lilac under all the soil
of New England
Lilac in me because I am
New England..."

Do you know Amy Lowell? She was a Cambridge gal (my hometown). She was a fine poet, but an eccentric lady. For instance, she smoked cigars (and in public!) before women were smoking cigarettes. She lived in the last quarter of the 18th century and the first quarter of the 20th. And her brother was President of Harvard University.

Now about foreign languages. I'm so happy you asked me, for as you know, I've promised not to "butt in" my opinion unasked. Please, please, dear W, take any and all languages you are offered. Rejoice you are offered French in highschool. That will leave you Spanish (and Italian) to take in college where time will be scarce. Spanish is a cinch, and, after you learn that, a few months will give you Italian - very much like Spanish. If I had my way, French would be introduced into all schools in Grade 2 (that's two). I took all three languages, and while I like Spanish the best, there's no question that French is the elite language - especially in diplomatic circles, in restaurants, with designer clothes, etc. While I was in Italy and, later, Mexico, if I couldn't think of the word I wanted (or needed) in Italian or Spanish, I could in French. Same when I was in France. I usually spoke a combination of all three languages (it had been years, remember).

Well, you have your Michael Jackson (thank heaven it wasn't Boy George). And I have my Jesse. (His picture is in this mess of stuff). Also articles of Menudo and a final hurrah of Men At Work. Tell me, do you prefer records or cassettes? How did your oboe solo "Memory" go? I'd love to see "Cats". In fact, I'd love ten days in New York in September to see all the new plays and musicals.

Thank you again for the lilacs.

Love,
E