One day while browsing our stacks I came across the book, “How Not to Act Old” by Pamela Redmon Satran. I snatched it up, partly because I’m a sucker for catchy titles and partly because I’m nearing 40 and feeling vulnerable about my age. I remember alternately chuckling and grimacing through several entries, but I was only upset about one. Feeling personally insulted, I re-shelved the book in a snit of petty retribution. I don’t have the book, and I can’t possibly give context for a quote, but I remember the gist of what irritated me: don’t send cards.
I am a self-identifying and self-diagnosed stationery addict. I love stationery. I love stationery so much that I find myself buying “the perfect card” before I have a recipient for it. I’ve bought wedding cards when all my friends were single. I’ve purchased pet sympathy cards because they were touching, realizing later that I was essentially wishing death on my friends’ animals. I understand that I have a problem.
Beautiful stationery aside, I think handwritten correspondence is important. More than important, actually. I believe that handwritten notes are vital in this age of digital communications and impersonal connectivity. Taking the time to write a letter or send a card doesn’t mean you are acting old—it means you are acting thoughtfully. You are conveying a message in a deeply human way that no emoji, hashtag, or font can capture.
We tend to forget that until the advent of the telegraph and really until the telephone reached widespread use, letter writing was the primary way people communicated over distance. This fact became real to me a couple of years ago while strolling through a local antique store.
I spotted a box of old postcards and impulsively stopped to thumb through them. I was drawn, not to the pristine or picturesque cards as you might imagine, but to the cards which were utilized. Postcards that had been written on, sent and received. The correspondence fascinated me. There were many of the wish-you-were-here and see-you-soon varieties. But I also read of profound grief. One card written in 1913 struck me as poignant. Grace S. wrote that her “Mother was dangerously ill for many weeks and my Grandma Atwell was burnt to death…” The script was vulnerable and difficult to decipher, but the emotion shone through. From that moment on I’ve viewed snail mail, past and present, differently.
Letter writing may not be widespread, but it is not obsolete. Sending cards doesn’t make you old, old-school, or old-fashioned. Yes, it links you to the past, but it also connects you to a person in the present. The effort and emotion you invest in a handwritten greeting is a gift. It does not go unnoticed by the recipient. Chances are that your letter will be saved. It might not be around in a hundred years like Grace’s card, but it’ll be treasured more than a shared Facebook post. Of that you can be sure.
*For the absolute best greeting cards and stationery in town, visit the Friends’ Shop.
I completely agree! A written note can both capture a memory and create one. I have a little box of a few notes from middle-school friends that I still read and smile about from time to time. I probably wouldn’t have them if texting existed back then!