Supposedly there was a time in history when humans didn’t communicate through writing. And it seems that’s where we are heading now. I mean the actual act of physically writing letters and cards in order to communicate sentiment, to keep in touch, to show we care about another. The way we used to for celebrations and events such as birthdays and the passing of friends or family members. I miss it.
I miss getting that occasional hand-written, or even typed, letter or card that arrives, usually unexpected, and always at a time when I seem to need it most. I have one friend in particular that would occasionally to drop a postcard from wherever she was in the world. I loved it! Even she doesn’t do this anymore. Maybe I should have expressed to her how much I loved it. Because I miss it.
For a few years now I have quietly suffered in silence regarding the loss of the centuries-old practice of writing to eachother. Secretly I’d become somewhat angered by this. And then one day I realized that I too had stopped writing to people, sending cards, dropping postcards, etc. I realized that it was ridiculous to be upset about something that I too was participating in. Or should I say, not participating in? So I decided to start writing. Because I miss it.
My cousin’s daughter, Raegan Czupka, makes hand-crafted cards as seen here in the featured photo. She calls her creations Paper Hugs and can be found on Etsy and Instagram. I’ve sent her cards to a few friends over the past year and finally ran out. I don’t think my writing has necessarily instigated a trend, but I certainly have enjoyed the process on my end. I’ve been in touch with an aunt I adore, the daughter of a dear friend I used to play tennis with, a niece-in-law I enjoy texting with too, the creator of a famous podcast, and even started a letter I never completed to someone that passed recently.
I’ve always written birthday cards to my children and they me. This is a tradition I have come to cherish. Often, I will go back and read their words and just look at the beautiful cards they either purchased or made themselves. I don’t collect stuff. But those cards are treasures and most have little or no space left on them because they are filled with beautiful, inspiring words of love and gratitude.
When my own mom passed my dad gave me a framed card I had sent to her many years ago. I had no idea she framed it. I remember making cards for people as a child and taping candy to them, especially my mom who loved caramels.
This blog started as a way to get some thoughts out of my head and into a format that I could share with anyone interested. I especially love the occasional reply or comment lfrom a reader. It’s not so much what is said but the connection itself. Just knowing someone is out there. Someone cares. And cares enough to take precious time to write.
So writing to one another gets a 5 Heart Rating. And as this blog wraps up a decade of my ramblings, it just might be in my top 5 favorites. Because I miss it.