Recently I reached out a woman who had responded to me years ago on a message board. She was descended from the half brother of my great great grandmother, Mabel Preston Lovejoy. She said in her post she had letters written to her ancestor, including letters from Mabel.
I asked – fairly out of the blue – do you still have the letters? Can I have a copy? And to my delight she responded back yes and sent me transcripts.
Seeing the day to day life of some of my ancestors – circa 1950 was enlightening. They discussed money and job woes, their relationships with other members of my family (who they were speaking to who they weren’t), the visits they had, and the emotional struggles they had.
One of my favorite parts though, was some of family talked shit about my great great grandmother Mabel. They mention that she is bad at writing people back – and then Mabel herself writes, scolding herself that she has taken 6 months to respond to a letter and that she should know better, being 78 years old.
I had a moment, where to quote Maya Rudolph as Kamala Harris “that girl was me.” In my professional life, I can shoot out numerous e-mails in the day, and respond to people fairly promptly. When I struggle to respond, typically it is me trying to distance myself often to craft a nicer response, or I don’t want to admit that I don’t know the answer. In my personal life – I’m notoriously bad at responding to e-mails. This year with the pandemic, it has been harder to respond sometimes.
My brain struggles and I often find myself at a loss for words. To know an ancestor had similar struggles more than 70 years ago, made me feel better. I’m not alone.
Mabel’s letters also made me smile, because she sounds so much like the other women in my family. She had a frankness to her – she wrote with very direct statements, in short sentences. She didn’t go in for flourish. She bragged about her roses.
The letters made her feel more like a person, than anything else.
Maiden Name Unknown 