I have always enjoyed writing letters and sending cards. It started when I was a little girl. My Grandmother Lillian would write me from Canada and oh! I thought that was the greatest thing in the world. A letter coming all the way from another country. I loved the stamps, the smell of the envelope, knowing she licked her love on the seal, and I loved to hear what tale she had to tell. I loved the different feels of stationary or plain paper and the smells of each page. I loved getting a letter that has "page 1" on the bottom and an arrow pointing to the right meaning turn the page over as there was more to read! My heart would beat faster and faster with such excitement and joy.
I became an advid letter writer/sender as a very small child and every day I would run to the mail box to see who wrote me. Would I hear from Grandma again? What about Aunt Pat, or Uncle Ambrose or the countless, endless friends I had made at girls camp. I even had pen pals from far across lands that would write me.
In the back of any magazine, when I was a child, there were one or two ads asking you to fill out your name and address (with your parents permission, of course) and send it in and soon a name and address of a pen pal would be on it's way. And sure enough, several pen pals sent letters for a few weeks or a few months and one I had for a few years and then just silence. Not sure where she went off to. I always wonder about her.
(I would worry when our address would change from PO Box 96B to 2279, etcc. etcc.. Would I still get letters? How does the post office really KNOW to send me the letters :) )
As life has carried on I have become more slack then I have wished in not sending out at least one letter or card or some thing in the mail a week. The last few weeks I found out that two of my good friends have died. Now, how can I say that they were my good friends, if I didn't keep in touch. Good Point. And that is why I have decided to start sending letters or cards through the mail. Not the internet, or text or twitter. My heart sinks over the fact that while David lay many months dying from lung cancer that he may have enjoyed a silly, whacky card or a boring "this is what happened this week" letter or a colored pic from Jax to Mrs. D, also suffering thru the minutes of life with cancer.
Today's ways of saying hi is so impersonal and though I can be addicted to texting at times I miss the mail and what it means to me. The waiting and longing, the knowing that something is coming. The stickers that cover an envelope. The stamp turned upside down that states you love them. XXXX's and OOOO's from the ending of each of my Grandmothers letters.
All my mail comes the first week of the month. All bills. Then every Thursday I get the circular of what sales are here and there. And every day I check the mail knowing that there isn't anything in there. I realize that people don't write like they should but I hope I get a few letters coming soon.
I have a lonely mail box. I hope to remedy that soon.
