Last night I read a few of the letters I’d placed in a Tiffany’s bag long ago. They’d been in storage in another State and recently retrieved. The letters were separated according to writer, and put in chronological order and tied. They were special – these six different packets from six different people – and as I read, the words seemed to jump out at me. Five of the people have since died, to reread their letters is to be with them; it’s a priceless experience.
It’s easy to send an email in place of a letter. It’s not the same though. The simple process of choosing the stationery, selecting a favorite pen, setting apart the time and the place, and focusing thoughts leading up to writing a letter ties in with the end result, and allows the writer to be connected to the act of writing. Then off goes one’s energy to a friend (or in comes the energy needed), when a child is misbehaving, an unsolved problem needs a solid opinion, congratulations is in order – a wedding, a baby, a career move, a trip of a lifetime, or a letter needs to be written because someone’s getting a divorce, someone’s sick, someone’s dying, someone needs to feel loved. A huge life expereince is taking place, and a letter that will be read over and over again needs to be sent or received.
Having the letters before me is a reminder of how extraordinary life is. The letters from people now dead were of life, of whatever they were feeling and thinking at the time.
Many people must be writing letters, I have three beautiful pens given to me as gifts, so I know beautiful pens still exist. And in stores I see all kinds of stationery – beautiful, funny, original, stationery with photographs of nature in all its splendor, photographs of people in all situations and with all kinds of expressions. Yes, someone must be writing – still. And perhaps one day another someone will be holding, reading – maybe laughing; maybe crying – and most likely appreciating that letter. Wonderful!