Nothing To Write Home About

In the collective memory of each and every family there are words and phrases that are so commonplace, so absolutely predictable that they become home to family members just as much as the family house or a favorite family recipe. When a person in the family hears these words or phrases they are immediately surrounded by the smells of home, or caught up in their mind’s eye with the remembered expression of a loved one’s face.

My Dad used to use the expression “that’s nothing to write home about” with such regularity that it became one of the phrases that always makes me think of him. I just used it a moment ago when talking to my wife about a recipe we just tried; it wasn’t remarkable. And so I said, “Well, it’s nothing to write home about!” Meaning, of course, that it wasn’t that good, and as a result we probably won’t repeat it.

But strong words and phrases that are in our collective family memory have a way of lingering even after the topic they were describing passes. And I am left today pondering those words . . . as well as the ones that I muttered shortly after using them.

I said, “And there’s no one at home to write to, either.”

Mom and Dad have both passed away. My brother and his family live far away, and let’s admit it . . . “writing” is not what it used to be.

Now, I am quite familiar with email, etc. I know we continue to write as a nation. Incessantly! Texting, tweeting, and status updating; linking in, blogging, etc. We are inundated with words and communication, at least of a sort. But there’s nothing like a good old fashioned letter. As the writer of Proverbs said, “As water to a thirsty soul, so is news from a distant land.”

My mother was a craftsman without parallel when it came to letter writing; she was a master. Mother could describe a trip to the grocery store and make it interesting; she could tell you about planting an Oleander bush or a Texas ranger in the backyard and her description of it would leave you spellbound, longing for a sequel. She was both informative and entertaining. My cousin is the same way; whenever he writes I start to smile even before opening the envelope – I know it’s going to be fun, and clever, and genuine.

But what grips me today is that single phrase from my father: nothing to write home about. And it has me asking, today: “What is there that is worth writing home about?” That is, assuming you have a home to write to, and persons there that you love dearly. Persons you value enough to share your life, your dreams, your successes, your failures.

As I reflect upon my day today there is nothing remarkable to tell. Or is there? My grandson is spending the day with us (he is 21 mos. old), and so we stopped by Dunkin Donuts to buy a cinnamon-raisin bagel (which we share each Tuesday), set up a toy wooden train track together, watched some Sesame Street on TV, ate some Cheerios and Chex with fruit, let the dog in and out a dozen times, talked with the lady from Orkin that came to spray for bugs, went to the grocery, sorted through some papers, washed some clothes, had some casual conversation . . . and I could elaborate even more if you’d like, of course.

What strikes me odd about the list of unremarkable things I’ve listed above is this: these are the very things my mother would write me about, making me long for more of the same. To her, these were things worth “writing home about,” I suppose. And these were the things I valued reading, as well.

Emails today are usually short and to the point. If they aren’t we often tire of them quickly, and resent the sender. I try to make my blogs short, in part because I know that people don’t tend to want to read things that are lengthy. But as a result we have become a society that wants nothing that is not absolutely necessary when we read; our time, we say, is so precious.

And so . . . we forfeit the little things. We don’t describe the planting of our garden. We don’t share the many little stories that make up our days, because they are not sensational enough. We don’t prefer old movies much, because the action is so slow. We won’t take a stroll in the park because it doesn’t provide adequate exercise. I am afraid that often in our lives there is increasingly nothing to write home about.

And so I repeat, “What is worth writing home about?” And I am not necessarily advocating a resurgence in old fashioned letter writing; I know the presence of cutting edge technology is here to stay, and we must adjust to the times in this regard.

I’m really not talking about writing at all; rather, living.

Our lives are remarkable on so many levels. So many levels. Do you see the beauty? Are you aware of the astounding richness that is truly present even in a smile?

I am convinced that if we miss these little things, if we measure the importance of our lives by what is commonly accepted as sensational, we will miss out on the beauty, value, and richness of our own lives. The truth is, we all have something worth writing home about.

So . . . what impresses you? Do you revel in the beauty of a raindrop as it splashes into a growing puddle of rainwater? Can you delight in the smell of wood burning in the winter? Does the sight of Orion or the Pleiades enthrall you on a clear night? And does it thrill you as you watch a toddler talking and traversing a living room that only months ago was like a great desert expanse to him?

And will you write home about it all? Because . . . it is indeed – remarkable.

About ivanbenson

I am a former singer, guitar player, writer, story teller, voice over talent, and a current heart attack survivor in the Atlanta, Georgia area.
This entry was posted in Family History, Fathers, Stories, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

16 Responses to Nothing To Write Home About

  1. ivanbenson says:

    Thanks, Viv. I always appreciate your encouraging words.

  2. Vivian Doublestein says:

    Ivan, your work just gets better and better. Loved both this one and the inauguration one! Wanna just write my blog for me too? You are way better at this than I am!


  3. ivanbenson says:

    Tears. I know what that means in our family. Thank you.

  4. denisebensonphotography says:

    Tears streaming down my face and a flood of memories-and so I say…”it’s a success!!” 🙂 This is fabulous, I LOVE it! The so called “adventures” of the day don’t seem all that great when telling someone..but that is what makes up our lives. We don’t have really many “great” moments, but sometimes the little ones we take for granted are the best of all. Thank you for this Popps.

  5. ivanbenson says:

    You are most welcome, Suz. I shed tears each time I write, too. Bless you.

  6. Suzanne says:

    Sitting here in tears – you are so right and I truly thank you for sharing and reminding us all of what really matters!!! Love you!

  7. ivanbenson says:

    Thanks for your comment and accolades. I am glad these stories have some impact on others just like they do on me.

  8. Christie says:

    Mr. Benson,

    I still LOVE your stories!! Our society has become so busy we don’t stop and enjoy anything. I had dinner with the first “boss” and his wife about 10 years ago. During our visit I proceeded to “fill them in” on my life when he asked me, “So what do you do for fun?”. A simple question really, but I had no answer…

    I haven’t thought about it much since until I read this. Thank you for reminding me to slow down and soak it all in occasionally.

    Please keep writing!!

  9. ivanbenson says:

    My pleasure. Thanks for reading and commenting.

  10. Jo says:

    Another very good article Ivan! Thanks for reminding us that we all do have remarkable things in our lives every day!

  11. ivanbenson says:

    Thanks for your comments and encouragement. It is a pleasure to share these memories and ruminations.

  12. ivanbenson says:

    Would love to compile them into a book at some future point.
    Thanks for your accolades and support.

  13. ivanbenson says:

    Thank you so much for reading them, and appreciating them. Bless you.

  14. Randy Sides says:

    I find myself looking for your stories. I would say you a fine wordcraft master. I find things that I have forgotten from either childhood or other things from my young adult life. God bless you.


  15. Ginger oldham says:

    I am enjoying all that you are writing… Well written and great insight… Hope you are planning to compile them into a book…

  16. Sandy says:

    This reminds me of a book I recently read, One Thousand Gifts. Once you get with the flow of her stream of consciousness style of writing, it is a great read and has made me more aware of the ordinary things in my life that are really gifts, and I need to be grateful for them and write home about them!

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