I just did something most people don’t do anymore.
I wrote a letter.
A real, honest-to-goodness letter.
You know, the kind that involves putting down your thoughts on paper, putting said thoughts in an envelope, attaching a stamp and leaving it for the mailman.
It’s something I rarely do anymore.
And you know what, I miss it.
There’s something real about holding a piece of paper in your hand that someone has taken the time to pen to paper and compose their thoughts. I like it better than email.
Don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t go back to just stamps and letters. I love being able to send photos of the kids to family members or chapters of my book to friends for their feedback at a click of a button. I like being able to access it wherever life takes me. And I like that friends and family to do the same to me.
But there’s just something special about seeing information written on the envelope, opening a the envelope, and seeing a page or two of handwritten content that just makes the experience so much more personal than seeing the same message from someone pop into your inbox. Anyone can type. Who actually takes the time to think about what they want to say then actually use a pen to compose their thoughts and put in the mailbox these days. That’s so much effort!
I don’t know what it is about letters I like.
Maybe it’s the personal touch.
Maybe it’s the fact that in the days before email I was a prolific letter writer.
Maybe it’s the handwritten letter I received from an old friend earlier this week that prompted me to respond in kind.
Whatever the reason, today I find myself wishing there were more letters in my mailbox and fewer emails in my inbox.
