I think letter-writing is a lost art form, and that's such a shame. Not the actual penmanship, because mine is crap and I print out my copy onto stationary or cards, but the ability to write an interesting letter.

I had a friend whose letters were a joy to read. He would send me at least one a week and, whenever it arrived, I would make a cup of tea, close myself into the living room, and snuggle into my favorite chair so I could focus on it uninterrupted. Five to eight pages of thoughts that were interesting, soulful, informative, curious, passionate, inquiring, and always quite witty. They were a joy to read, and I can only hope he found mine anywhere near as fulfilling. We corresponded for more than three years, and I saved every one of them. I sure miss that.

I might send out one or two this week.

I guess it would be gem anyone would love to receive in the pile of slicks.

Been a while

I also had love letters from a young man which I burned in that fit of pique like we had as late teens early twenties when the last feeling is the most important one we will ever have.

He called me not all that long ago through FB.

Just random touching bases.

Just some warm memories after all th years talking about the places and the friends.

I did not have a Thank you card to send to my Ladies' auxiliary. I had to thank them for the thoughtful food box for the holidays they brought to me. We live in a very small hamlet. Everybody knows everything about their neighbors. I was thrilled to receive the visit and the box of food. The group was glad to see me and ensure themselves that I was not quite at death's door. At the end of the visit, there were tears and ensurances to keep in touch.

I have a friend that sends me a thank you card with about 10 to 12 lines on it every time she visits my home. She is definitely old school. I'm fortunate to be old enough to have a letter from my husband in my treasure box that he sent me when I was TDY. I also have a letter my dad sent from New Guinea in World War II.

Emails are so easy to save but they definitely lack the ability to give you the same tactile joy.

Yesterday I mailed my daughter, 31, a short handwritten letter on a beautiful card. The card had a picture of a painting of the Wenatchee River and Cascade Mountains by Jan Cook Mack, a talented local artist. This is where Claire grew up. It will touch her heart.

At first, I couldn't think of what to say. Kept the four paragraphs upbeat and funny. Usually I write a draft and edit before touching pen to paper.

The last letter I received was from a cousin last year. It was castigating me for having said in my annual Christmas Newsletter how hopeful and relieved I was at getting rid of Trump. My expression was couched in gentle words, since I know many of my family are Republicans. But it was too much for him. He ran it through a shredder and sent it back to me along with a two page, hand written letter rant about what a terrible person I was, how my deceased father would be ashamed, my aunt hated me, blah, blah, blah. He was a cop in Kansas City, and one of the most racist people I know. No great loss.

Other than a few lines in a holiday card, I never send a letter. I did get one from a distant relative a month or so ago, some second or third cousin. It was printed from a computer but still it was paper. Mom passed away a month before that and I called the couple of people I found in her address book to let them know, (a paper one, she was 94). I made the mistake of mentioning I was unsure of the relation to them, they decided to send a letter telling their story.

Pen pals even.

I had them in Japan and France and Iraq as a teenager.
And overseas letters took so log then.
It felt so exotic even seeing the stamps.

Back in the 90s one time we got a notice (by snail mail) that they were canceling our insurance.

Fortunately our agent was a good guy that we knew well and he straightened it out.
It turned out our automatic bill pay (AOL believe it or not) was taking the money out of our bank account but not sending it on to the insurance company.

We can sort of laugh now but it sure wasn't funny at the time.