I was thinking the other day of how we are on the verge of losing the special legacy of hand-written love letters. With the booming popularity of email, texting, and other forms of technology for communication, it has become a novelty to write or receive a hand-written letter. It saddens me to think of the romantic historical discoveries that this is robbing us of; will future generations ever know the sweet surprise of finding packets of love letters with locks of hair hidden away in old trucks, bound together by a ribbon and smelling faintly of lavender or Evening in Paris perfume? It’s hard to imagine anyone finding an ancient hard drive tucked away in an attic, hacking into it, and finding old love emails…or finding someone’s old cell phone, searching through the messages and finding love texts (And how anyone could be romantic in 165 characters is beyond me. “Rses r rd vilets r blu sgr is swt & u r 2” just doesn’t cut it. Nor does i <3 u.). If such a thing were to happen, it’s obviously not as romantic as someone sitting amongst piles of old letters, photographs, dried flowers, and hats in their grandmother’s attic on a rainy day reading letters from their grandmother’s tragic war romance. The more I think about this day and age of virtual everything, I think we’re losing the joy of the tangible…I just heard about an iPhone app where you can “carve” the initials of yourself and your sweetheart (whom you probably met online) into a virtual tree – you can even choose from different kinds of bark. We’ve come a long way from the Sweetheart Tree.
This isn’t to say that technology is not a wonderful thing for closing the miles between people; I think it’s marvelous that a soldier in the Middle East can now use Skype and see his family in the U.S. face to face, or that missionaries can see and talk to their grandchildren even though they might be across an ocean. Facebook, email, and other ways of communicating over the internet keep me in touch with people that I wouldn’t ordinarily see or talk to otherwise, and they make the distance seem that much shorter between myself and my friends and family who are far away. I’m simply talking about the effect of the new ways that people keep in touch on a practice that for hundreds of years has been a very special, beautiful way for people to communicate. Letters preserve things that emails would simply delete. When we hold an old letter in our hand, we are holding a piece of history. The untold story that lies between the lines of a letter as it was being penned long ago can only be imagined – what made the writer’s hand slip and leave a mark there? What is beneath that scribbled out section?
Please excuse me if this ends up being a jumbled mess; it is late and my brain isn’t functioning as it should, but I hope that this these thoughts of mine will inspire you to take up your pen and write someone, leaving a little of your own history on a scrap of paper. There is nothing like receiving a hand-written letter in the mail. It doesn’t matter if it’s a love letter or just a note of encouragement or if you’re a good writer or a bad writer. Don’t let the flurry of today’s instant communication rob you of an experience that has been shared by apostles, statesmen, and poets alike. Please, don’t send someone a piece of virtual tree bark! Leave a legacy in a letter.
P.S. Come back tomorrow for a very special post! 😉
Image at top taken from https://saralondesworld.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-175-365-letters.html
Beautiful post, Diana. You are so right! I still have all of my love letters from Jim (and I think he has all of the ones I sent him, too–somewhere ;)), and sometimes I go back and read through some of them. They are precious to me. Believe it or not, email was a pretty “new” thing back in 1997 and we rarely used it. In fact, I think I can count on one hand the number of emails we sent each other. Maybe 2 hands. 🙂 Anyway, the letters probably number at least 75-100! Jim says we kept the postal service in business. 🙂
Like you said, letters are just way more tangible and preserve communication in a special way. I love reading books where letters or diary entries play an important role. Like “Anne of Windy Poplars.” Or the letter from Walter to Rilla in “Rilla of Ingleside.” (Makes me cry every. single. time.) My mom actually has several diaries that my great-grandmother (my dad’s mom’s mom) kept when she was in her teens–during the WWI years. I have loved reading through them over the years–the fancy penmanship, the notes about everyday life–they are really fascinating. She even wrote in code a few times, which Jo and I thought was SO cool. We eventually deciphered what she had written. 🙂 Anyway, I’ve gotten carried away here, but now you have inspired me to go write someone a real letter! I should make a goal to do that at least once a month. I love email, but you’re right–real letters are special! Thanks for the reminder.
Very beautifully written and inspiring!!! I am thankful that I have some older relatives in my life who don’t use email, so whenever I correspond with them it is via letter or card. And I have another friend with whom I do correspond often by email, but we also write one another nice long letters when we have the time.
Thanks for the inspiring reminder. I have a bit more free time this week so I will definitely drop someone a line by mail.
Thanks Carrie! That is so neat about you and Jim writing back and forth and your great-grandmother’s diaries. I really really enjoyed “Anne of Windy Poplars” last time I read it – especially when L.M. Montgomery would “leave out” the mushy parts. 😉 I don’t remember the letter in “Rilla of Ingleside”, but I do know that I didn’t read that book for a very, very, long time since I knew Walt died in it and it would be sad. It wasn’t as bad as I thought once I finally did read it, though.
I have my cousin to thank for getting me back into writing letters. I hadn’t for a while and then she wrote to me and we’ve been writing back and forth for a while now. It’s so much fun!! Now I need to work on expanding the people I write to. 🙂
Thanks too, Mrs. T.! I didn’t see your comment until after I posted mine. 🙂