Look What the Tide Bought In

A couple of weeks ago I got an unexpected surprise in the mail--two letters that were sent over eight years ago. One was from my now sister-in-law who sent a letter asking me to be one of her bridesmaids, sent from the lovely island of Oahu, and the other came from my dear friend Freddie all the way from Muenster, Germany. I received them after reconnecting with a friend from the first building I lived in on the UWS in New York. After I moved (leaving no forwarding address) they arrived in the post and just got pinned to the bulletin board in our apartment building. He saw them, noticed that they came from exotic locations, and thought he would hold on to them in case our paths crossed again. Thanks to Facebook we found each other after all these years. The letters still had a journey ahead of them though. My friend, Bernard, has since moved to Brazil. At the time we reconnected he had a friend from the states visiting him so he sent them back with him and then the gracious friend dropped them in the post to arrive in my box just  few days later.

You can't imagine how much fun it was to get a letter that was eight years old. Bernard hadn't mentioned who or where they were from so the anticipation really built. When I got them I felt like I had been given this amazing gift of a peek into my past life. Laurel's was clever and creative and Freddie's was detailed and long. Both made me remember why I love the hand-written word so much. 

The receipt of the letters made me go into a sort of tech funk. I started thinking abut how much I used to love checking my mail and sorting though it looking for "homey" hand writing. When I would see a familiar print I was absolutely delighted. I loved the shapes of the envelopes, the well chosen stamps and even the texture of the paper. Each letter was unique, each was re-read and each was treasured. In fact I think I have almost every letter I have ever received, and I am not a pack rat. I rarely get letters anymore, except on holidays, and even then it is usually a hastily printed label and a store bought card with a family photo emblazoned on it. Don't take me off of your Christmas card list just yet, I like photo cards and send them too, but I miss the personal missives I used to send and receive. I miss my writing finger callous. I miss thinking about what kind of stamp to buy, paper to use or even individualized envelope to make (I used to make the most clever envelopes out of magazines and European chocolate bar wrappers) for certain friends. I miss the thought that went into figuring out how much to share and with whom and deciding who would get your deepest thoughts, dreams, worries and feelings. I miss my grandma sending little poems, my mom sending letters with sketches in the margins and my husband who used to send cards of a particular brand that you could only find at Kate's Paperie. I miss letters from family and friends who sent odds and ends from their lives, from music mixes and photos to eccentric items such as envelope with volcano ash like the one I received from my brother who lived by an active Japanese volcano and a tire flattened Cane Toad, that nearly made me fall down laughing, that an old roommate at BYU-Hawaii sent me. 

There is a short high that comes from hearing the you've got mail or a text tone, but there is nothing that compares to the eagerness of tearing open a letter before you can even get to your door, carefully reading it with attention to even the slightest nuance and then savoring each word. Our familiarity and ease in communication sometimes feels like it is breeding superficialness and lack of genuine and personal thought. 

Indulge me, send me a letter, or even a post card. The old school kind that is written just for me. It doesn't have to be detailed or long, contemplative or even creative, unless, of course, you want it to be. I think it will buoy me up just enough to get out of my tech funk and I promise to send one back. Or if you really want to make a fan, send my mamacita Claire one (who every time I call her that says, "No mommy, I am just a little girl). She loves letters and has even taken to grabbing every catalog that comes though our door and claiming that Grandma sent it to her.