After
her surgery Kellie moved herself back home for a week or so. It was great having her around, but admittedly, she was easily bored and often frustrated that she wasn't as mobile as she wanted to be. It's tough for an athlete, especially, to be down.
After a few days of self-pity, Kellie pulled herself together and found purpose again in her literal laid-back lifestyle. She signed up as an indexer for the 1940 Census. This was something she could do with an elevated leg and feel productive at the same time.
The 1940 Census records have recently been released and the
LDS Church is digitizing them through
Family Search. Whenever Kellie feels like indexing, she is given a batch of records to transcribe from cursive writing into digital print. The task of interpreting handwriting from 52 years ago, however, has periodically been a daunting task.

Kellie has come to realize that it would be so much easier if she actually was a writer of cursive herself. Alas, cursive writing is a lost art, I fear. None of my children actually write in cursive. They each did learn it at some point, but they were not required to keep it up. When they DO attempt to do so, the form resembles that of a third grader. In fact, even my almost 50-year-old husband can't write in cursive any more. To try to teach my kids to have an actual signature has been a real treat.
I was impressed that Kellie took it upon herself to teach herself cursive writing again. I was delighted and amazed that she actually wanted to practice her handwriting skills.
She asked me to remind her how to make certain letters, and although I DO write in cursive on occasion, I (like many adults) have my own style. So, I was not as much a help as I had hoped to be. I suggested she Google the correct technique, and so she did.
I rounded up some old elementary school paper and Kellie began practicing and practicing until her fingers were tired and a sore indention was visible on her middle finger from gripping the pen too tightly. I recall that feeling all too well.
I just smile to myself remembering this pile of papers on Kellie's bed sheets. Her efforts have made it a bit easier for her to decipher the census worker's scribblings. She has indexed records from Louisiana, Oklahoma, and most recently New York. In fact, the last batch was from a prison.
It's made me think--this whole handwriting script. Will it be lost completely in a few generations? Are they even teaching it in the elementary schools these days?
As for me, I'm making a more concerted effort to write my shopping lists, thank you notes, and journal entries in cursive. I wonder if my posterity will even be able to read it though?