The following was written by my late wife Elaine. She wrote a long book, a diary really, from which this is one passage:
E-Mails: Why I think they’re great and why I think they’re not
They’re easy, although Dave has to “set it up” for me, and he also has to send them; all I know how to do right now is type ’em. So, I type e-mail notes to my longest-distance children, and just like a phone call, it’s instant! But I hate to think that its ease and speed may be replacing letter writing.
Will letter writing become a lost art? It’s heart-warming to hold letters in our hand and reread letters from friends and family members, including those no longer living; especially loved ones no longer living.
A continuous flow of letters between Dave and I over an 18-month period while he was in the Army are now in a full shoe box, holding two years of our history. For many years, my saved letters to Dave still carried the Cotillion perfume smell from when I laid out the stationery on my bed and scented it with (Avon) Cotillion-soaked cotton balls before writing on it.
I think it’s much easier to erase e-mail stories and experiences to and from friends and loved ones from screens than it is to throw away the same people’s personal letters written to us. I think twice before I pitch out a hand-written letter from a loved person. Speaking just for moi, they can be reread and savored and treasured for a long time. A lifetime, possibly. So, I find that I am saving most e-mails I receive from my children by making copies of them on the computer printer.
Packrat Mom! The paper will pile up anyway!
The Mom and the little daughter, in a “Sally Forth” comic strip, were talking about e-mails and hand-written letters. In the last box of the strip, Daughter says: “Is this sudden anti-techno stance the same reason why you never bought me a Sony playstation?”
Mom says, “No, that was an issue of cost. This is an issue of value.”
In the last letter my mom sent to me, a few days before she died, it’s not just the words; it’s her careful handwriting. The choice of the note card; the personal thing of the writing of it; the carefully worded thoughts; my knowing by everything about it that it was her last letter to me, and that she knew it, but it was unsaid. A message I can hold in my hand today, 6+ years later.
I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
All my sons and all my daughters and all my grandchildren who may someday write me e-mails or who already do: Keep ’em all coming! I’m thrilled to hear from every one of you. But I’ll keep your hand-written notes forever. Maybe you’ll do someday what I’m attempting to do now: Read a collection of letters and cards and notes you’ve saved that trigger memories to write down to tell your children and grandchildren what it was like “in the old days.” (Your “old days.”)
To be continued…
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About the Author: RD Blakeslee (1931 – 2024) built his net worth by only investing in that which can be enjoyed during acquisition and throughout life, as opposed to papers in a drawer, like stocks and bonds. You can read more about him here.
Photos: Courtesy of the Blakeslee Family
If you’re someone from a family that sends handwritten notes of love, you’ll get where you can recognize a person’s handwriting. My grandmparents have been gone 56 years, and I can still recognize my grandma’s handwriting.
That’s a great observation, Bill! Come to think of it, I can still recognize and remember my dad’s handwriting too.