It’s been two weeks since my grandma passed, but the family’s days are still filled with sorting through boxes of what they brought home from her house. Antique photos, precious 17th century silver, shiny diamonds that were stuffed in the musky-smelling drawers of cracked wood dressers topped with crystal and fine china, books with shredded binding and inscribed entry pages, post cards written to and from family and friends on opposite sides of the world…. and anonymous love letters.
My mother was going through my great grandmother’s papers and came across this type-writer love letter.
Well, damn! Now that is a love letter. As I finished reading, I looked up at my mother’s waiting eyes. We giggled like school girls. Who writes letters like this anymore? In fact, that’s exactly what I said to my mom. “Who the heck wrote this?!” There’s no signature, no date, no address, nothing.
While I’m thankful for what social media has done for our world, I can’t help but also look at it with disdain. Where are the handwritten letters to the person you adore? There may be a lot of thought that goes into deciding what to text message someone, but there is no effort. There is no hour of time that is put aside to hand write it, crease the folds of the paper with your own hands, slide it into an envelope, and drive (or walk) to the post office to buy an actual stamp and mail it off. It’s all instant nowadays – no real waiting, no suspense. You can’t hold a text message. Well, you can hold the cell phone it’s in, but a text message can’t collect dust after being saved in a manilla envelope for who knows how long.
Will romance ever be like it was before the internet and cell phones? Flower shop flowers and store-bought cards show love, but where is the guy who will go to the actual garden and pick the flowers himself?