Multiple Media and Me

Gone are the days when one would put pen to paper...the days of what is dismissively called "snail mail" (as if slow were bad. Hmm...I can think of some things...well, let's leave that for another entry). Gone are the days of long-awaited family missives, keenly anticipated news from long-distance friends, sweetly scented love letters, a 150-year-old journal in verse, no less, of an ancestor as she traveled around the world, alone, by ship. (True story.)

I'm sure I'm not the only 40-something that has wondered if she can keep up with the rapid pace of technological advances. I may have a leg up on things since I have children who span the gadget gamut from 1988 to 2001. My eldest Skypes and Facebooks me. (Sometimes, she even SkypeCries me...sorry Honey, but we're hoping to coin a term here. You understand.) The second daughter texts me and calls me on her cell or IMs me from her bedroom to my desk, all within the confines of our home. (My husband says I'm child-rearing by cell. What choice do I have?) The younger ones are learning the ropes of MySpace and Gmail (where I can feel like a pro, thanks to the tutelage of their older siblings).

Thirty years ago, yours truly studied abroad. The coolest innovation in communication at the time was the aerogramme. It was a blue, one-sheet letter, purchased at the post office, that could be folded in three and had self-adhesive flaps and postage (less than a traditional letter) already attached. I thought it was the bomb! (I know, anachronistic use of the term...forgive me.) It was used all around the world. I thought nothing else could make the world smaller. I had no idea what was on the horizon.

I remember spending time and thought composing. I was sure that letters I received from family and friends were given the same consideration. Each piece of mail was a treasure.

One correspondent who held a special place in my heart was my maternal Grandma. I was pretty sure she hated writing letters, but she wrote to me (all the more meaningful, don't you think?) She wrote religiously, and so did I, to her. I loved receiving her letters. They were a lifeline to my family halfway around the world.

Upon her death in 1991, 13 years after I had spent the year abroad, I went rummaging through her dresser drawers (a forbidden act for a granddaughter who had so respected her grandmother, but, hey, I was still young and curious).

The tears swell in my eyes even today when I remember the moment that I discovered, much to my surprise, neatly collected in a simple rubber band, in a top drawer behind her unmentionables, all of the letters I had sent to her from that year in my life...the time I lived incommunicado from my family, so far away, so alone. I grabbed the packet of letters and tucked them into my suitcase for the ride home. (Who else would want them?) I keep them with the letters I received from her that year...the letters I saved for all those years, as well. (Note to my children...look for these letters when I go.)

Will email be able to follow the act of snail-mail? Are we saving those emails that mean something to us? Or, do they end up in our accounts for so long that they disappear by default after 60 days?

I, for one, have printed hard copies of all those emails My Honey wrote to me when we were courting long-distance. (They total about a ream and a half of paper...note to children, look for those in the basement. You might make a nice love story book with them and make a little money!)

Let me just put this out there...if you have feelings for someone close to you, write that person a real letter. It will mean more than you know.