My thoughts went back to my younger years, to the times when I used to write letters. I had pen pals from overseas, letters came from family members that lived far away, and I used to write to a man in prison for at least 20 years or more before we gradually stopped writing to each other. Those gems are now in a plastic tote in the back of a closet that haven't been looked at for a long time until today.
I pulled out the totes, wiped off the dust and poured out the contents onto the floor. I sorted through the cards and letters, then bundled according to the sender. I read many, plus cried lots of tears. There is something special about handwritten letters. It is said that there is an art to it. I don't know about that. Letters were written when people actually took the time to sit down and think about the recipient. Then pick up a pen and write out their thoughts on paper.
What brought up this nostalgic feeling for letter writing? I miss it. I miss going to the mailbox and discovering a letter. Now, I only find a bill or an advertisement. But letters are singular in the respect that they come from one heart to another saying you mean something to me and I must write it down for you to see. How often have you pulled out a letter and read it over and over again? Tracing your finger over the words that were written and trying to imagine the person as they wrote it. I am willing to write letters to someone who is of the same mind. Would you find it thrilling or burdensome to re-discover this lost art of communication?
