When was the last time you wrote a letter? I don’t mean an email or a text or a tweet.
I mean an honest-to-goodness, put-pen-to-paper, slide-it-into-an-envelope letter involving a stamp and a trip to the Post Office.
I’ve been pondering this question since I unearthed a folder full of letters in my desk. This might sound silly, but I’d forgotten that we used to write letters.
Emptying my big, old, roll-top desk is part of an office overhaul. It was such a mess in there I had to call in the cavalry and get a professional to restore—or maybe I should say create—some kind of order. Shery Hill has been a huge help organizing all that stuff and, to be candid, keeping me on task. I have to admit, though, my attention wandered when I came across The Letters.
Oh, my goodness…what a walk down memory lane. A manila folder stuffed with letters going back years.
Mushy missives from one-time significant others, all of them insignificant now. College boyfriends, summer flings, that guy I met during a WLS remote. One man traveled—a lot! He’d written to me from Tokyo, Paris, and Belleville, IL. Some writers pledged undying love. Others broke the news: the love was already dead.
Girlfriends wrote with condolences about the lost loves…news that they were having babies … or thanks for a gift, a surprise or moral support. They complained about their husbands or boyfriends. (Mostly they had one or the other, not both.)
Family letters! My brother admitted he missed me the first Christmas I was away from home. My enthusiastic sister described her first week at Indiana University. (“I love it here! We’re having just the best time!”)
Somewhere along the line, my mom sent me the letter I’d written her the night before my first radio show at the Valparaiso University campus station. I told her in round, girly handwriting that I was “scared spitless.” (She was my mother after all.)
And my 50-ish father tried to turn back the hands of time in a thank-you note.
Funny guys—I have letters from a lot of them. The boys in broadcasting can be entertaining. A Cleveland co-anchor summed up the state of AM radio, in the era of SNL.
A soon-to-be-boss confirmed my employment in Houston: “you have been hired. the offer was made. you did not refuse. you are hired. no shit. okay?” He said the shift key was broken.
Houston didn’t last long, and when I was looking again, I got a rejection-and-I-mean-rejection from AP Radio in Washington:
I guess it was good advice to look in the unattractive Midwest. After a year in Cleveland, there was this from the president of ABC.
Is all this making you think about the letters you have stashed away in a drawer? Or maybe the ones you wrote that someone else kept? There’s something about putting your words on paper in your own handwriting that gives them impact, don’t you think?
I guess the impact is the issue, when I think about the letters I reread last week. Would I have felt the same nostalgia, amusement, or affection if I’d read the words on a screen instead? I’m not sure I would.
And I might want to have that experience again. I tossed a few that were super-embarrassing. (I’ve been reading about that “Swedish Death-Cleaning” book.) A handful that have just lost their juice over the years. And one that sounded heart-felt—“I have to tell you I’ve met another”—but I had no idea who wrote it.
The rest are back in the desk where I can read them again in another 10, 20 years.
I also wrote a letter. A thank-you note to someone who said something at a meeting that helped me. I would have come home and dashed off an email. But after I’d marveled at all those handwritten letters, I thought, “This will have more impact if I sit down with my purple pen and write it.”
And I’m going to do it again. My goal: write a letter every week. Could be a thank-you or condolences or I’m-thinking-of-you. It probably won’t be pouring my heart out onto three or four pages. But even a quick note can make an impact.
I wonder if you’d join me in my plan to bring back letter-writing?
Post a comment below and share a story about a letter you loved. Or tell us who you’ll write to this week.
What an excellent idea! You got me, my thinking is if someone takes the times and effort to write a letter (now a days) it must be important and (special) I know I get a birthday card from my 401 k investor every year and the crew has signed it (feels good) so yes I am in. Also I had heard about a teacher doing this to all the students in a school.
I was in a habit of writing a quick note to my boys and putting it in the lunch box. It sure can’ hurt & who couldn’t use some extra brownie points 😉
It’s so true about time and effort, Jacques. A friend’s daughter complained bitterly: “I hate writing thank you notes!!!” Her mom said, “Grandma knows you hate it. That’s why it means so much when you do it.” There’s a lot to that …
Your boys are lucky, my friend.
LOVE this newsletter and particularly this topic. My dad was a voracious letter-writer and I kept nearly every one of them. He would sometimes address letters to me at work w/ vague addresses that, unbelievably, found their way to me in downtown Chicago. I do write letters and will continue to do so. Laughed out loud at some of yours, especially from the (bad) boys in broadcasting–thanks for sharing this, Catherine.
You are so lucky to have letters from your father, Vickie. That’s one thing that makes real letters so special — we can save correspondence in My Documents, but it doesn’t carry nearly the same weight as that sheaf of papers you’ve cherished.
Your enthusiasm about my newsletter makes me so happy. I know how crowded inboxes are and I’m grateful when someone welcomes me there.
Great post Catherine! The art of letter writing has all but disappeared as we now default to short e-mails and texting in code. My earliest mentor, my grandfather, was influenced by his very proper Victorian English mother who instilled a strict code of social courtesy. He was a prolific letter writer and also wrote a weekly column for his local town newspaper. He was especially known for his hand written thank you notes and even wrote thank you notes in response to getting thank you notes!. He emphasized the positive and lasting effect that a handwritten letter or thank you note can have. I still send letters and cards with hand written messages via snail mail when the occasion dictates. And, like you, I have a file folder full of handwritten notes and cards I have received over the years.
Email is SO much easier, Tom. I understand why it’s become the default. And, there’s something about getting an actual letter on paper. I’m not surprised that you write real letters and cards. Frank and I almost always go for blank cards and write our own messages. I found a bunch of those in my desk too, and I notice that we say a lot of the same things birthday after anniversary after Christmas after birthday. Still, there’s something wonderful about a loving message that came from the heart instead of Hallmark.
Catherine we are purging our house for a move and I have found letters and notes that have been fun to read. I have boxes of my Mother’s and Grandmothers cards and notes I am also going through. This is a lost art and with cursive not being part of the curriculum has made it even worse. I was never a great letter writer but I want to do more of it. Thanks for your perspective as always.
Moving! I bet you’ve come across some treasures, Kathy. It IS a lost art. I like to write, and apart from the odd thank you note, or quick message on a greeting card, I don’t write to anyone anymore. (I DO write to myself, but that’s another story — I’ll have an article about that one of these days.)
When we were packing up my mom’s things after her death, we found letters Dad had written to her when he was in the army and she was back at her parents’ house, pregnant with me. Those are special. (And spicy!)
This was so fun to read! I agree – letters are worth the effort. I still have a handwritten note from my grandmother on my wedding day. I keep it in a special box and re-read it every time I come across it.
A letter for your wedding day! I love that, Ellen. We can’t keep a pile of pixels in a special box — there’s a place for email and all that, but for certain special messages, a hand-written letter is still the best.