The Leaving Season Postcard Project was born out of my love for postcards and a suspicion that we are all leaving things, all the time. If you’d like to send me a postcard, please check out this link for instructions.
“I unpacked honeymoon lingerie into my childhood dresser…”
I love this postcard not only because it is in pencil (brave!), but because it seems parts were clearly erased and re-written. Or perhaps just smudged by the fingers of the post person? Either way, this card is a view into what is usually an invisible part of the writing process. The handwritten words are so precise, as are the incredible details of this unexpected turn.
In a hotel room with my husband, 6 days after our wedding, I got a call: my mom—57, never smoked—had lung cancer. I ran to Hertz. Rented a car. Left my what-just-happened-here spouse behind. At home, I unpacked honeymoon lingerie into my childhood dresser. Hung my wedding dress next to my prom dress. Texted my husband. “I’m sorry.” I would stay gone for two years until she died. Then I would return to, and barely recognize, my old life. And I would, for 10 years and counting now, wonder if what I chose to abandon, at the rental counter at Hertz, would be another thing I can’t get back.
Want to be part of The Leaving Season Postcard Project? Or use the postcards in your classroom or bookclub? Send me a note!
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Buy The Leaving Season here, Welcome to Shirley here, Wanting: Women Writing About Desire here, and This is the Place: Women Writing About Home here.