Till the stars no longer shine
Every girl gets a few Valentine's Day cards and love notes in her life.
In high school, my boyfriend gave me sweet cards and little notes to say he cared and my father often attached one of those business-card size notes on the bouquets of red carnations he gave me on Valentine's Day but I didn't truly receive a real love note until Sept. 7, 1996.
It's a nine-page handwritten note on white paper that reads:
"My dearest Sarah. I was so disappointed when I got home, heard your message on the answering machine and realized I had missed your call."
The writer goes on to talk about a van repair that cost $250, a piano that had been in the family for years that had been sold, the muggy weather and a fire at the local Dairy Queen.
It then proceeds to talk about how much my father and brother miss me.
The note is from my mother, the first note she mailed me after I'd left home and moved to Kingston to go to university. There's nothing really interesting in it. It's just full of the little things a family would talk about over dinner or tidbits my mom and I would gab about over a coffee.
"This started out as a little note. Now it's grown. I guess I've rambled. I say a little prayer for you every morning and evening. Don't laugh! You're in my thoughts."
And then she ends her letter with what has become her special signature: "I love you till the stars no longer shine. Mom."
Since that first letter 10 years ago, my mother and father have mailed me - not e-mailed but mailed - hundreds of notes, comic strips they think are funny, care packages and cards on every occasion. My Valentine's Day card arrived weeks ago but I'm not allowed to open it until Tuesday.
There's one thing about all the notes, cards, packages and letters that is always the same. My mother always signs off in a similar fashion.
The first one was "I love you till the stars no longer shine."
The next signoff she scrawled reads: "Love you till I am no longer a klutz."
On a postcard she sent me from Prince Edward Island, she wrote: "Love you till I don't like travelling."
On another thinking-of-you card that was sent Jan. 19, 1999, my mother, who is an elementary school teacher, said: "Love you till I love bus duty when the buses are late!"
Another note was sent because she obviously needed a distraction: "Love you till I love doing report cards."
A little note decorated with bluebirds ended with: "Love you till I love driving home after leaving you."
And perhaps the quirkiest of them all, is in a small cream-coloured card that my mother sent to say she'd sold our boat at the cottage - and she missed me: "Love you till I love liver."
Till the stars no longer shine, mom.
In high school, my boyfriend gave me sweet cards and little notes to say he cared and my father often attached one of those business-card size notes on the bouquets of red carnations he gave me on Valentine's Day but I didn't truly receive a real love note until Sept. 7, 1996.
It's a nine-page handwritten note on white paper that reads:
"My dearest Sarah. I was so disappointed when I got home, heard your message on the answering machine and realized I had missed your call."
The writer goes on to talk about a van repair that cost $250, a piano that had been in the family for years that had been sold, the muggy weather and a fire at the local Dairy Queen.
It then proceeds to talk about how much my father and brother miss me.
The note is from my mother, the first note she mailed me after I'd left home and moved to Kingston to go to university. There's nothing really interesting in it. It's just full of the little things a family would talk about over dinner or tidbits my mom and I would gab about over a coffee.
"This started out as a little note. Now it's grown. I guess I've rambled. I say a little prayer for you every morning and evening. Don't laugh! You're in my thoughts."
And then she ends her letter with what has become her special signature: "I love you till the stars no longer shine. Mom."
Since that first letter 10 years ago, my mother and father have mailed me - not e-mailed but mailed - hundreds of notes, comic strips they think are funny, care packages and cards on every occasion. My Valentine's Day card arrived weeks ago but I'm not allowed to open it until Tuesday.
There's one thing about all the notes, cards, packages and letters that is always the same. My mother always signs off in a similar fashion.
The first one was "I love you till the stars no longer shine."
The next signoff she scrawled reads: "Love you till I am no longer a klutz."
On a postcard she sent me from Prince Edward Island, she wrote: "Love you till I don't like travelling."
On another thinking-of-you card that was sent Jan. 19, 1999, my mother, who is an elementary school teacher, said: "Love you till I love bus duty when the buses are late!"
Another note was sent because she obviously needed a distraction: "Love you till I love doing report cards."
A little note decorated with bluebirds ended with: "Love you till I love driving home after leaving you."
And perhaps the quirkiest of them all, is in a small cream-coloured card that my mother sent to say she'd sold our boat at the cottage - and she missed me: "Love you till I love liver."
Till the stars no longer shine, mom.
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