Wednesday, January 30, 2013


My grandmother used to send me letters when I was a child.  She lived in Florida for part of my childhood and we lived in Ohio.  She would send these letters and they would always include a tracing of her hand-print (her way of reaching out to touch me) and she would sign them with xoxoxoxoxo.

I used to love these letters.

I'm not sure why, but I've been feeling nostalgic lately.  I miss the simplicity of childhood, the personal touch of cards and letters, and the quiet. Now everything is electronic.  Even when it's quiet, there is still an electrical hum in the air.  We send emails and text messages instead of sitting down with stationary and handwriting a note.  The tap of a few keys and we're done.

Letter writing is an art and a process.  You write the letter on some well chosen stationary with a good pen, you put it in the envelope and you lick the flap to seal it.  Then it's off to the mail.  A few days later, a young boy, or a mistress, a brother, a far away soldier, a mother, finds the mail in their mail box.  They recognize the handwriting on the envelope and their heart skips a beat.  They open the carefully sealed letter and then the smell of the sender seeps out with the page. You inhale them as you begin to read the paper they held in their hands a few days earlier.  It's personal.  It's intimate.  It's a bond between the sender and the receiver.

Today we bond with our electronics.

No comments:

Post a Comment