What am I?
An old-fashioned letter of course. Not a tweet, status update, message or email, but a real ink and paper letter! It is one of my favorite things to receive and one of my favorite things to send. The excitement of opening the mailbox to find something good inside. Not a bill or credit card offer or a request from a charity, but forty five cents worth of message.
I confess that I do love the convenience of email, especially for work-related tasks. The capability to send a hundred people something at one time and organize their responses, etc. is both efficient and easy. Instant communication is also really handy for keeping up with friends, old and new, sharing information with everyone at the same time and being able to connect with them whenever and where ever.
But I LOVE letters. My great-grandfather sent a note to his wife, care of my Grandma Addie, general delivery in 1951. She got it just fine, even though the envelope said nothing more than Addie Rhoney, Metter, GA.
I love reading the banal little anecdotes that people share in letters, probably because they can't think of anything else to say: "It's raining here today," or "Bobby Sue is thinking about cutting her hair short," or "Do you remember the old cotton warehouse? They tore it down last week." Simple, boring details that reveal the ebb and flow of daily life.
I love that you can fold a letter back up, put it away and pull it out to read again later. I love knowing that someone took the time to write one. I love sitting down and sorting out my thoughts, putting pen to paper to write one. I love to imagine the journey; from mailbox to truck to post office then plane, truck, mailbox. A little piece of happiness wrapped up in words, carried across town or out of state or half way around the world.
