P.S. Keep Writing

Several Christmases ago I gave friends stationery hoping to hold on to the tradition of handwritten notes. I was pleased when three of the many recipients requested more, but three of many isn't enough for a revival.
 
For me, part of the peaceful days after Christmas includes a sharp Sharpie, pretty paper and a few words of gratitude for the great gifts. But for most, saying thanks at the presentation of the present is enough. It's not that 'have you written Grandma a thank you note yet?' is ringing in my ears, because I think I was usually quick to do it. It's just that I appreciate gifts, I'm happy to find letters in the mailbox (aren't you?) and I consider a stack of freshly stamped envelopes a piece of art.

I've just finished a ten-day tour with some old and new American friends. At the end I was given a gift and told not to open it until comfortably settled on the train. Goodbyes were said and tears were shed in a mysteriously dark bar in Venice where Sartre and Beauvoir sometimes met to linger on life. As much as I'd loved to have lingered, it was time for my wet walk to the station through the rain and teardropped sparkling streets of my favorite city.
 
Soaked with sweet memories, I'd forgotten about my gift until I was almost home. I had enough time to open it, but not enough to acknowledge it. I thought of sending a quick thanks with a smile, knowing I'd follow up with a heartfelt, handwritten card later, but I was afraid they'd spend three weeks thinking I wasn't really happy with the gift only to discover my true appreciation when the Pony Express had finally arrived with the mail. But seeing that an immediate response is now possible, sending nothing didn't seem right either. Make a call? Then the romance of the written word really is reduced to nothing.

I took a poll on this antiquated art and there was almost unanimous agreement. A thank you text is sufficient. And a thank you text followed by a handwritten note is redundant. Admittingly recognizing the redundancy, I'm still unwilling to contribute to the death of handwritten sentiments. I'm not ready for a world where gratitude is given and received in the blink of an eye.

Technology is about to ruin yet another simple pleasure. My 'anything but junk' drawer is filled with everything the rest of the world keeps on their phones. The brochure from a hat shop in Rome, the address of some campers in Michigan and tattered envelopes, stamped and postmarked with handwritten notes inside. Rediscovering these random things in writing takes me back to those people, places and things. When I find them in my search for safety pins I can laugh out loud (not LOL) and kiss them and hold them to my heart if I want; all things that would seem silly to do with your phone in line at the grocery store.

 

Letter writing on the part of a busy man or woman is the quintessence of generosity.  Agnes Repplier