The Value Of Handwritten Letters

Letters are going out of style in today’s technological age.

What a shame.

Handwritten letters connect us in a way that can’t be duplicated with digital replacements. There are very few emails that I have gone back through the last decade and reread.

Exactly zero texts that I have saved and kept close to my heart.

Even in the moment where the words are treasured, we are bombarded with so many in a day…perhaps without the personal touch associated with paper we overlook the value.

Grandpa always wrote to me. Always.

He was not always able to express his devotion to me in person, but when he penned me a note, it always came through. I would look for the same things, every time, and I would picture my Grandpa writing.

Dear Christer… No one else called me that

The weather today…Never one letter without that header

Everyday details…None were too small to be shared

And when I went too long without writing him? Oh, he’d let me know that wasn’t ok.

And when I did write? My penmanship left much to be desired.

I can still imagine him tossing the letter on the table in frustration and yelling, “Pat, what in the **** does this say?” It makes me chuckle.

I knew what to expect in Grandpa’s letters

And on his end? He truly anticipated my reply. These pieces of mail mattered, though at the time they seemed like such ordinary pieces of ordinary life.

My Grandpa has been gone for over a decade now. I have a pile of his postcards. A sprinkling of letters. They make me cry or smile or laugh, depending on the day. Reflective of his mood when he wrote.

I hear his voice in these letters. I know his exact posture when he would write, I see him at his table. I know his preference for those felt pens and a good pencil.

I see his tousled hair and bathrobe and glasses, and the hint of a smile to see my letter on the table. Or the movement of how his hand would wave into the air ,calling out for my Grandma to tell him what my words said.

Letters give us so many things

A note from my Dad last week, a surprise. My mom’s letter to me as a child telling me she loved me. My great aunt’s card, written when I was born, to tell me about something she was leaving me someday from her beloved sister. A letter from another country, telling me about a boy going to school.

Love notes from my husband, long before marriage. A letter before my aunt passed away, her scratch letters sprawling her love onto paper. A letter with drawings from my brother with inside jokes from 20 years ago.

I even have a copy of a note written from a mother to a son who had left home for the service…from my Great-Grandmother to my Grandpa.

They are precious, of incalculable value to me.

This week, consider writing a letter. It doesn’t have to be long. Someone will be surprised to pull it out of their box. They’ll treasure it much more than all the bills and circulars. Because it says, “You matter to me…”