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Day One: Monthly Letter
Dear Readers, I have a confession to make. I've kept the secret for more years than I care to admit but I'm afraid the time has come to face the truth: Ten days after my wedding I fell in love with another man. And it gets worse. My husband knows about it and he doesn't blame me one bit. Okay, okay. I won't keep you in suspense. It's not Harrison Ford or Mel Gibson who stole my heart, it's John Adams. Yes, I'm a John Adams groupie. I outgrew the Beatles and left the Stones in the dust but my passion for John Adams (second president of the United States, first to live in the White House, husband of the incomparable Abigail) has grown stronger with every year.
About fifteen years ago Roy and I were living on Long Island. One of our favorite weekend getaways was racing out to the North Fork where we could catch the Greenport ferry to New London, Connecticut. We would race north, relishing the fact that each mile took us deeper into our beloved New England. Looking back I can't figure out why it took us so long to head for Quincy, Massachusetts, the place where John and Abigail called home. The farm loomed large in my romantic imagination. Just knowing that I would walk the paths they walked, maybe even touch a book or a stone that they had touched was enough to send shivers down my spine. I never suspected that reality would far surpass my fondest dreams.
If you love passion and adventure and romance, if you love true heroes and heroines, pick up a copy of David McCullough's John Adams. It's everything you're looking for and more. We're continuing to learn how to live without my mother and it's every bit as difficult as you might imagine. My dad continues to hang in there and I can't tell you how proud I am of his strength and courage. The depth of his grief is something I can't even comprehend. August 17th would have been their 52nd anniversary so Roy and I are trying to think of something we can do to help make that day easier on him. I'm not convinced anything can but we'll do our best. If you have suggestions, I'd really appreciate reading them.
Which reminds me: have you checked out my Top Ten Lists? I would love to add yours to my website. All you have to do is drop me a note with a list of your favorite books or movies or what-have-you and I'll put them up on the site. And the same thing goes for good advice or favorite recipes. And here's what's new this month:
See you in September! With affection,
In stores now:
Archived letters:
July 2001
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August 2001
Let me begin at the beginning. It all started way back in 1968, on our honeymoon, when I
read Irving Stone's Those Who Love, - a fictional biography of John and Abigail Adams. I
was eighteen years old, head-over-heels in love, wondering what form our marriage would
take and what the future would hold. Exactly the right audience for a tale of courtship
and commitment, of loyalty and family. What a deeply romantic story . . . what a thrilling
moment in history. Those Who Love was only the first of the scores of books I've read about
John and Abigail and their family and until this weekend I would have told you it was my
favorite, but now that I've read David McCullough's brilliant biography John Adams, I'm
afraid I'm not quite so sure. If you're looking for romance and passion and adventure and
heartbreak, boy do I have a book for you. (If you prefer audiotapes, the abridged version
is read brilliantly by Edward Herrman and is worth checking out.)
We were the only visitors and when the docent realized how thrilled I was to be there,
she went out of her way to make the visit special. I touched John's spectacles. I stood
before the chair he was sitting in when he died. And when the docent slid open one of
Abigail's bureau drawers and removed an armful of white lace, I burst into tears. "I
usually don't show this to anyone," she said, her own eyes brimming as she placed the
delicate fabric in my outstretched hands, "but I can see how much it means to you."
Abigail's bridal veil! I swear to you I could see her across the centuries, hear her
voice, know her heart. It was one of the most magical moments of my life.
