Whenever I received a letter from Shirley, I treasured it. None of them were ever discarded. Instead they were saved in my memory box, both the mental one in my head, and the physical one in my closet. After her death, rereading her letters brought her back to me in sharp perspective. Only one of her letters got away from me and that was when I was documenting them in preparation for my book. I think I know where it went, and maybe someday, the person who took it will return it to its rightful owner. Shirley's handwriting was distinctive. She worried about it constantly, a holdover from her DID days when as a child she was so splintered that she never got to learn and practice her cursive as most children do. I thought her handwriting was lovely. As she grew older, it became difficult for her to write due to physical limitations, so sometimes she typed, worrying just the same about her typing and her spelling. Her handwriting often reflected her mental state...agitated, or calm and flowing. Below is one of the first letters I received from her. My last was in 1998, the month before she died.
October 2, 1971
"…I wondered numerous times during the summer just what you were doing – and where you'd be for the coming school year. I can imagine you packed and unpacked and packed and unpacked! I've moved enough times to know all that can be involved in that kind of activity – including looking for a new school position! "
Birthday Card, 1996
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Shirley was always very thoughtful about remembering my birthday. I did the same for her every January and tried to get her special little gifts. Since she had not had wonderful birthdays as she was growing up, I wanted those of her later years to be celebrated and enjoyed. This note, hand written, shows that she was in a good spot at this time in her life. Her cursive writing is large, even, and very legible. At those times when she was troubled, her handwriting reflected her pain by being uneven, scribbly, and all over the page. In her letters she apologized over and over about her handwriting, although I thought it was fine. When she was a young girl, one of her alternates had taken over for her in elementary school. The alternate did not share what she had learned about cursive and math, so for many years Shirley felt handicapped by her lack of competence in these areas. Some of this knowledge was returned to her during the integration process of her therapy, but by then the damage had been done. Shirley always felt lacking in math and writing skills until just before she died. At that time, she told me they didn't really matter any more. She was at peace with herself.
Here are some other quotes from her letters to me:
