First of all, let me take this opportunity to write that I'm a careless, fucking idiot. I moved into a new apartment last week and have been trying to unpack my life since then. The postcards were some of the first things I unpacked, but not knowing where yet to put them, I placed them on a deep windowsill. And then it rained.
None of the postcards are (is?) truly ruined, but many will warp once they are dry. A few stuck together, and I did my best to separate them with little damage as possible. Also, my dad was fond of writing with felt tip pens--there were always plenty in his home office--and that ink runs quite easily, so a few of the cards look like they've been dipped in ink entirely.
So angry with myself. Not only is this a project I take pride in, but I've been grateful for the dialog it has created between my father and me--even if it's a conversation with the dad of my past.
Anyhoo. On with the cards.
Date: August 8, 2004
Age: 26
Love, Dad and H
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uhhh, thats nasty what had happened....and i actually know how it feels...some years ago i was clumsy enough to actually spill a glass of water INTO to box where i kept the cards....the result, more or less like yours...i even had to throw away some, since they were so damaged (the picture on the front was coming off in pieces). On some of the damaged ones that survived, you can still see the traces of it...both on front and back, where it looks exactly as they've been dipped in ink *sighs* im still angry at myself for my clumsiness and for ruining some of those memories...funny though...just today i actually posted one of those cards, and then i come here and read what had happened to you....
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