Skittles and Stationery
Posted by Elizabeth
I am the one in our household who dashes to the mailbox to collect the mail. I know when the mailman arrives in the morning; I stand impatiently at the window, waiting for his boxy white truck to move onto the next bank of boxes before walking briskly to retrieve my treasure. If Maikael happens to beat me to the punch, he teases me like an older sibling, thrusting the envelopes overhead as I leap around him in circles, begging him to hand it over. I write letters – with stamps and personalized stationery – about twice a week, so the odds that there is a real letter waiting for me in return when I open the mailbox is good. Because I’ve always penned letters it doesn’t feel particularly extraordinary, but I realize that I am not only a rare breed, but an endangered species.
Penpals reunited in person after 15 years
I can’t imagine my life without regular letter writing. I appreciate sharing both the exciting and humdrum details of my life with a friend hundreds of miles away, and knowing I will receive a response. It’s why letter writing has been more satisfying – and ultimately more therapeutic – than journaling. While some might find the interface of paper and time a barrier to building deep relationships, I have discovered that friendships forged with the help of the US Postal Service are some of the richest of my life. My friend, Nikki, and I have written letters nearly once a week for the past 18 years. We recently visited each other, for the first time in 15 years, and, to our surprise, it was as if no time had passed. Through our letters we have developed a deep and lasting relationship, one that I have rarely found in my “normal” life. Perhaps it is because of these barriers that I tend to wade through subjects of emotional depth more readily than I do in person. When I am in a funk, nothing helps me work through my problems more effectively than letter writing: the vast expanse of a blank page provides the open space required to explore my interior landscape.
Anne visiting New Mexico in 2006 (the summer of The Stink Burger), with our graduate advisor, Mary, and Maikael
But letters that focus on the humdrum stuff of everyday life can be equally important, as well as wildly entertaining, requiring descriptions that conversation can’t always capture. Anne and I have used reams of paper discussing the latest on American Idol, dissecting the performances with gusto. One of my favorite letters from Anne involved a detailed description of something called a “Stink Burger” that she ate at a Flagstaff restaurant in 2006; I still laugh out loud when I think about it. I write letters to my 91 year-old grandfather, who can no longer write to me without significant effort, but who I know appreciates holding a sheet of paper in his hand and reading about the weather in New Mexico and my garden and the weekend trip I took to Santa Fe. Through a letter the everyday experience is elevated to something special.
We all relish snapping open the mailbox and seeing a flash of handwriting on the outside of a creamy envelope – so why don’t most of us write letters anymore? The short answer, I suspect, is that is takes time, which is precisely why I love writing letters. Much like canning, there is no quick way to pen a letter. The very act of letter writing forces us to move slowly, considering our thoughts and our words, asking us to pause and choose what is worth conveying, whether it is a particularly memorable hamburger or news of an engagement. It is through this process that we reveal what is most important to us. If we wish to live simpler lives of substance – literally lives in pencil – then letter writing seems like an excellent place to begin.
My writing desk
I worry that letter writing is an art form that will be lost to the ravages of time, as modes of communication grow ever briefer: compared to texting and tweeting, emails have become downright formal. While some might think letter writing is an outmoded form of staying in touch, I believe the time is ripe for resurgence. As most of us migrate further from the place where we grew up – my dearest friends are scattered like seeds across the country – we need a particularly human way to stay connected to one another, something with a personal touch that technology will never be able to replicate. I believe letter writing is the answer, providing a quality of communication that discourages us from chasing after the quantity of communication that email affords.
Imagine my delight when I received a recent message (okay, I admit, it was an email) from Atarah, a friend from high school. She relayed the following story to me about her school-aged son:
I wanted to tell you about Sage’s new pen pal. Such a sweet little girl named Emily. A month or so ago
I received a message from the doctor’s wife that we would have a new neighbor moving in across the street from us. It was the new physician’s assistant, and they had a little girl the same age as Sage. Sage was so excited when I told him, and once they moved in he began riding his bike a lot more frequently, up and down our driveway right in view of the neighbor’s house. When I finally introduced the two of them to each other Sage acted all cool, like he could care less and walked away. Later I told him how that must have hurt her feelings, and even though he is shy or embarrassed that it is still important to be a gentleman. So a few days later he comes to me with a letter sealed in his nice pirate stationary and tells me he has written Emily an apology and he wants to deliver it. I never got to read this letter so I was a little hesitant, but I let him deliver the letter across the street anyway. It was so cute to watch him run across the street and set this letter down on her porch on top of the letter he rested a rock and some candy he had saved. A few days later a couple of little girls (Emily and her little sister, Molly) came running across the street and delivered a letter on our front porch, resting on top was a rock and some fruit snacks. They bolted so fast after delivering it; it was such a sight, their pig tails wagging as they ran. The letter was written on the prettiest lavender paper with scalloped edges, and on it read:Dear Sage,
Thank you for the candies and the card.
Do you like school?
Your friend,
EmilySage wrote her another letter soon after and bought her some Skittles with some money he had saved from his allowance. That’s love, Skittles and stationary.
If you weren’t already convinced of the power of a letter, I hope this is the clincher. Today I encourage you to take a page from Sage’s book: pick up a pen and write a letter to someone. Even if it’s brief, imagine the impact you’ll make.
August 20th, 2009 at 5:56 am
I’ve been so inspired by you and Anne, and the relationship you have continued through your letter writing. That coupled with today’s post is super encouraging to me to buy some beautiful stationary and starting writing.
As the requisite professionals, A & E, any suggestions/recommendations as to your favorite places for stationary?
xo
August 20th, 2009 at 6:28 am
Yay, Meghan! I have a total paper fetish; the kind of stationary you like is so PERSONAL (don’t get me started — I could go on and on). Believe it or not, I’ve found Hallmark to be a good source for stationary over the years. Bookstores are great, too. Or, your favorite local paper store (mine is called, appropriately, “Papers”). Happy Letter Writing!
August 20th, 2009 at 7:09 am
Gorgeous stationery on etsy, too. You can get lost just dreaming of the letters you’ll write. I share your love of actual letters in the mailbox. Seeing someone’s actual handwriting is so intimate and evocative of their personality. In the future, will anyone curl up on the windowseat with a cup of tea and stacks of printed out emails? I seriously doubt it.
August 20th, 2009 at 7:11 am
Here’s my more-than-2-cents’-worth:
In 1982 a book call Megatrends was published; the auther is John Naisbitt. It was kind of a futurist thing; predicting trends. One trend he talked about was “high tech/high touch,” a formula describing our responses to ever-increasing technology. He talks about the intensely industrialized 1950s and 1960s, and the responses to that: such as the rise of the self-help movement, and I would add (in the 1970s) the “back to the land” movement. An electric guitar, for example, is high tech. An acoustic guitar is high touch. E mail is very high tech, and letter writing is very high touch. Unfortunately, I think high tech often overcomes high touch: there were backlashes, “back in the day”, against such crazy things as automatic payroll deposits. Now, I am the only person living on the planet who prefers writing checks when paying bills. Fortunately for me, I have a cousin who is my pen pal. Our hand-writing gets worse every year, but we keep it up. I understand its value and I’m gratified that you and Anne do, as well.
August 20th, 2009 at 8:44 am
I must confess, I still write handwritten thank you notes, but very few actual letters. Like you, Elizabeth, I used to write letters quite a lot. As you suggest, time and convenience seem to favor the electronic. Also, except in cases like your grandfather’s, it’s hard to write letters without the hope of getting something in return. And not having many friends who would be up for letter writing, I guess I’ve backed away from what I would expect to be a one-sided exchange. I really admire your committment. I miss the days of being excited to get the mail. Perhaps I’ll try again!
August 20th, 2009 at 9:06 am
Amen, sister! I feel blessed to be your penpal. And MAN that Stink-burger was ROUGH!
August 20th, 2009 at 2:36 pm
Everyone should have a pen pal! It’s especially comforting knowing that despite all the moving I do I have a friend I can take with me wherever I go. It’s also rewarding to provide entertainment for others—like the garden manager at Ecology Action who isn’t doing well and reads parts of my letters out loud and bursts out laughing according to my sister. It’s such a personal way to keep connected to family and friends.
I sounded silly during my interview with the Post Office on Tuesday. She asked why I wanted to work for the P.O. and I answered: “Because I love stamps and mail.” I don’t think I blew her over with that one.
August 20th, 2009 at 2:39 pm
Nikki, I would absolutely have given the same answer to the post office!
Gale, I agree, it’s hard to find the motivation to write when you don’t have a willing companion. But when you are lucky enough to find someone who is as enthusiastic as you, it’s a gift.
Jan, we are in the same camp: I, too, prefer to write checks in paying my bills!
August 20th, 2009 at 4:46 pm
Meghan–my letters to Elizabeth are written on….legal pads. Seriously. It’s the only thing with enough space. For special occasions, I’m all about Crane’s, even thought it’s totally overpriced.
August 20th, 2009 at 5:22 pm
I have been waiting for this post for two whole days! It was like….waiting for the mail!
I collect paper. I am looking at two totes of cards and blank stationary as I write this. There is more in the other room. I love getting, opening, and experiencing the conection of the “personal touch”. But it has always been a huge effort to respond in this way to others. If you get a letter or a card from me, it’s always a big deal. ALWAYS.
Yet these days I’m trying to shake off the lazy ambitions of my youth. I’m up for the challenge of bringing back the stamp. After all, I already have the paper.
August 20th, 2009 at 5:23 pm
P.S. That note from Atarah was the cherry on top! Sweet!
August 20th, 2009 at 9:44 pm
So heading out for my stationary tomorrow!
) This has been in the back of my mind for a long time, but the lure of the convenience of email kept distracting me. You reminded me why it’s worth the effort.
August 20th, 2009 at 10:35 pm
Writing letters is for the brave and daring. For me, Letter writing = nervous breakdown. Crazy I know, but I am hypercritical of myself. Email is a godsend, I literally close my eyes stretch my arm out and click send. Checking the mail is cruel, unusual torture,I dread going to check mail and would be lost without online bill payment methods. In fact just responding to this post is quite the feat. Next year I plan to make letter writing my new years resolution.
August 21st, 2009 at 5:00 am
All of what you say is so true — letter writing is really hard (physically), especially if you have been typing for so long. I am embarrassed to say that my fingers cramp when I write more than a page and that my handwriting is a bit atrocious. E – when you write (not letters but essays, blogs, longer pieces), do you write on paper or the computer? I’m betting paper, where I tell myself all the great writers put their thoughts first. (I do not count myself in this mix).
I am more comfortable with email when I am writing letters — but I still take the time to share deep thoughts — and love when someone else does the same.
But the Skittles story is precious!
August 21st, 2009 at 6:53 am
Alas, I write anything other than a letter a la computer. I cannot count myself amongst the greats!
August 21st, 2009 at 7:17 am
Elizabeth,
It seems you have inspired everyone to either commence or restart the practice of letter writing. You have touched me as well. I will start letter writing TODAY and I think I will start with the letter M. I don’t know what letter I will write tomorrow but Q has me intrigued for the moment. We’ll see. Thank you for your words of encouragement!!
August 21st, 2009 at 8:48 pm
I had a pen pal once. He lived in France, didn’t speak any English, and was forced to write me three times in his English class in School. I to was in the same situation. Since our topics never trailed far from the weather where we lived, the sports teams we liked, and the occasional paragraph containing some of the words we learned that month. Our relationship dwindled.
Ah…..Frederick, how I long for our deep felt letters about Football and how “Je played Baseball avec my ami.” (I wasn’t very good at French by the way.)
Later in life, though, I have made some strong connections with my dear friend Alessio in England. He is a Professor at Cambridge who is originally from Rome. I e-mail him monthly and have kept a fairly healthy friendship with him. But I have noticed our e-mails have been decreasing in frequency over the last few months. Maybe it would be more personal and bring back our writing if I wrote him a letter. I’ll still have to type it though. My hand writing looks like chicken scratch.
P.S. Bravo on the responses. It looks like LIP is becoming a hit!
January 28th, 2010 at 7:04 pm
Elizabeth, thank you so much for pointing me to this lovely post. As you know, this subject has been much on my mind lately and I appreciated this insight into the prominence of letter writing not just in your friendship with Anne, but also in your relationship with other friends and family. You know, the day I posted about letter writing, I received a letter of my very own in the mail. Now I’m thinking I should send some Skittles with my response…
January 29th, 2010 at 9:12 am
Discovering you for the first time thanks to Kristen and her awesome blog Motherese!
What a beautiful post. The exchange between Sage and Emily had me grinning from ear to ear.
I LOVE getting letters but I don’t really write them, except for thank-you notes. You are right; it IS an art form and it’s a shame that it’s getting lost.
I’ll have to type mine (shaky-hand syndrome) but I’m still going to try to write more letters.
I’m following you with interest! I also have a burning need to know the Stink Burger story!