What Writing Letters (the Old-Fashioned Way) Taught Me

Photo Credit: Judy Edgley/PhotopinCC

*Due to some personal deadlines, this is a re-post from a few years ago, but one I think you’ll enjoy.

I grew up writing letters. The old-fashioned way.

Sometimes, I’d pen long, drawn out missives on pretty stationery, and when that ran out, I’d use notebook paper decorated with magic markers, pencils, or crayons.

Personal computers were unheard of, and of course, e-mail wasn’t even on the radar yet.

In many ways, life was more of a challenge then.

It took deliberate effort to communicate. If we wanted to touch base with friends and loved ones, we’d hunker down at our favorite writing spot and dedicate several moments to the task at hand: letter writing.

Jotting down our current status and recent life events took time. For those of us creative souls who truly yearned to “be heard,”  letter writing was an art–one way we could express our heartfelt sentiments to our intended recipient. We didn’t resent the act. It was a treat to share a bit of our world with those we cared about.

Maybe it was the writer in me, but I loved those days of floral-scented stationery, matching envelopes, and fancy pens. (I’m guessing the postal system loved those days, too.)

When my father’s job transfer led our family to a new town, the move gave me ample reason to pull out paper and pen.

I’d just started 6th grade at that point and had to leave all my classmates and close friends behind. And of course, more importantly, the move meant we were farther away from my Nana and cousins, too.

Being from a close-knit family, that was indeed a life-changing experience for me. It was hard enough to be uprooted from everything familiar, but living several hours away from my beloved grandmother and the cousins I’d grown up with was especially difficult. I knew it wasn’t easy on my parents either so I was determined to make the best of the situation.

I wrote letters. Tons.

In those letters, I told my Nana everything.

I told her how I was doing in school, what my favorite subjects were, and how I was adjusting to my new home. I told her I miss you, Nana. I told her I love you.

I passed on snippets of trivia that I knew Nana would find interesting, too. I shared what the fellowship dinners at church were like and which ladies brought the best pies. I regaled her with tales from town. I told her about our eccentric next-door neighbor and how there always seemed to be odd goings-on at her house all hours of the day and night.

Again, I told her I miss you, Nana. I love you.

Though we visited Nana and my cousins at holidays and other times, the visits never seemed long enough and I continued writing those letters.

As always, after my signature, I concluded with a P.S. I miss you, Nana. I love you.

I wrote Nana throughout college, and afterward, as a newlywed. Later, I wrote her as new mother.

As I matured, so did my letters. I still “talked” with Nana in my letters as if we were sitting down chatting over coffee, but in a more grown-up fashion.

I told her about new recipes I’d tried, books I’d read, and stories I’d written. I shared secrets and heart’s desires. And as usual, I told her I miss you, Nana. I love you.

One day after my grandmother passed away, I received a thick, brown manilla envelope from my aunt. The contents caused my heart to skip a beat.

I never would have guessed.

Over the years, Nana had kept all the letters I’d sent her!

Those heartfelt, handwritten missives that I’d so meticulously penned to my beloved Nana had obviously held great importance.

It was an epiphany for me.

I’d learned the power.

I’d hugged her with my words.

******

Do you write letters the “old-fashioned” way?

What’s a lost art you miss?

PLEASE SHARE

The power I learned to harness through the simple act of letter-writing. (Click to Tweet)

******

Blessings Always,