I couple of months ago I was cleaning my office closet and found a box of saved letters. I went through them, reading quite a few in full. It was a fun distracting thing to do. Letters are a rare thing these days for most of us, even my grandmother emails and text messages me, instead of writing now, though she was not really much of a letter writer to begin with — notes in cards are her thing.
The letters in the largest pile were from a friend I went to school with in Tasmania. We became lost friend pen-pals once I moved. The letters were long, and read more like stories than letters, but they always ended with questions meant to be answered by a return letter. I always complied. I couldn’t remember if my return letters were long, though I couldn’t imagine them being short. I’m sure you know what I mean. We stopped writing and started emailing in or around 12th grade. We’ve following each through college and into grad school via the internet. I don’t have copies of her emails throughout the years, they of course got deleted. The real letter was dead, the written record of pieces of one’s life no more.
Her letters were beautifully written records of a time of life. After reading them, and because I was cleaning out things I no longer needed, I decided to place them in an attractive box and send them to her, along with a letter. I thought she’d be glad to have them back, if for no other reason than as a record of that time in her life.
I couldn’t help but have a passing thought about the fate of my letters to her, though I didn’t expect they would have been kept. Who keeps letters unless they are from a lover. Except me of course. I hadn’t heard from her in some time, and had forgotten about the letters more or less.
When I returned home this evening I found a box on the table. The box contained my letters, and a letter.
Some things make you smile.
I sit here now mourning the obsolescent letter.
peace
I sent all the letters Jina mailed me over the years back to her two years ago. She has yet to send me the letters I mailed to her.
It’s alright, though. I used to be upset she never returned mine, but now I feel kind of satisfied that they’re together somehow. I might have burned everything she ever sent or gave me and then mailed the ashes back to her, but I could never quite bring myself to burn her letters to me.
It tells you a little something about how much respect I accorded the some eight hundred pages of letters (some typed, some handwritten, none e-mailed) to each other.
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I like the idea of them “being together”.
Jina’s evil is the better explanation. LOL
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Oh man, that gave me chills at the end. What a wonderful story.
I have a few letters. But I keep every greeting card I’ve ever received – at least over the past ten, fifteen years or so – in a big cardboard box.
Things to do today…give Bone chills. ✓
I’m glad that’s done.
A nice gift, that she had yours is even better.
I haven’t done letters in a long time. I might have a couple from my wife stored somewhere. I think my wife has a few of my old letters stored somewhere too. I’ve never looked at them, It might be fun.
I never had a pen-pal. The only friend I had who moved away disappeared from my life forever.
It is rather a dead art letter writing, too bad.
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I was happy to get those letters and somewhat surprised. Even more pleased to read them, even if that does sound self absorbed.
I just found about 50 letters I wrote my parents from Oaxaca the summer I turned 16. They were in Europe much of the summer and would read them to their friends. Then their friends here and all the relatives. Kind of embarrassing but they were great letters and portrayed a very different Mexico than most people know.
I always wanted to go back and write letters from a more modern age and have the two published
Problem: my handwriting was beautiful but similar to hieroglyphics and the only people who could understand it were my parents.
Wonderful post Cooper. I love how you mix mundane and exotic and take a subject like the lost art of letter writing…
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I’ve never thought to ask my parents if they had letters of mine. I spent summers — winter for most of my family away, often with my Grandmother, sometimes traveling with her, and I did write a couple of letters though nowhere near the volume you produced. I’d find your letters interesting too.…
I wish people still wrote letters. What an awesome record that would be. I used to get letters from my grandparents all the time, and sent them too. I wonder if they saved them? I’m bad on emails, I never save them, or at least not most of them, and emails aren’t exactly private in the true sense of the word either.
That was a great idea sending them to her in a box, an attractive one no less, I guess that makes them all the more special, presenting them in an attractive way.
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The attractive box always makes things seem kind of old fashionablely special.
I hate to even talk this way but that was a very sweet story.
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Don’t worry, you won’t turn into a cat.
That is sweet.
Years ago I’d written personal memoirs and even recorded dreams. Some how these memoirs got trapped in trunk of a car that got crushed shut.
Someone some where has proof that I recorded a vivid detailed dream that was later remembered as a déjà vu several years later.
I don’t know what this has to do with anything, but often I do wonder what has become of it.
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You outta make a concerted effort to find them. I also love looking at old letters found in things bought at auctions. I have been auctioning in some time but in the past I’ve found old letters and photos thrown into boxes of junk and it’s a fun thing to look through them.
Very nice story…I didn’t know you lived in Australia
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You really don’t pay attention do you?
Yeah, actually half of my life was spent in either Sydney or Tasmania — mostly Tasmania — the Sydney part I was very young.
I have a few letters from old high school girlfriends and a first year college girlfriend stored some place at my parent’s house. Unless they threw all my stuff out they should still be there. I think I am suppose to keep old girlfriend letters.
I don’t want to use the word “sweet” either. You so seldom are, at least on paper or blog, but this was leaning in that direction.
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uh…thanks g.…
I’d love to see those letters.
I seriously cannot remember the last letter that I have written. You are right it is a dying art. We are so tuned in with e-mail that we send short missives to each other and something is lost somehow. It does give me the idea to possibly print out some of the e-mails that I receive that mean something to me. Just because we can discard communication does not mean that we should.
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I think we should consider looking at some of our correspondence and printing them out. I don’t know how many things I wish I had saved. There is even a way to make is less problematic by merely copying and pasting it into a computer based note-book. Now you’ve given me something to consider.