The Lost Art of Letter Writing
And what's worth preserving in this digital age
‘Tis the season of holiday cards, thank you notes, and letters to Santa.
I’ve just returned from the post office, where I mailed books for our Christmas Eve book exchange and purchased loads of stamps. It got me thinking about how strange it is that I only seem to put pen to physical paper during the month of December. For the remaining 11 months, my life runs entirely on electronic correspondence (my phone tells me I spent 5 hours texting last week alone!). But many would agree that sending and receiving mail is a wholly more satisfying endeavor. It makes me wonder: what is lost in the shift to digital communication? And what’s worth preserving?
It’s a question that’s been on my mind since a few weeks ago when we purged our basement storage closet. Among the treasures uncovered were shoeboxes full of letters (mostly from high school and college, but some as far back as first grade!), and my most prized digital possession, the Secret Sender 6000. If you missed this important technological advancement, well, I feel sorry for you. The Secret Sender was the original texting machine back in the mid-’90s. Plus, it had a matchmaker function that provided endless hours of folly (its indisputable algorithm ranks my husband and me as a 7-heart match, ha!).
But back to the letters. The contents of these shoeboxes reminded me that, at one point, my friends and I were prolific letter-writers. During those precious teenage years, every small detail felt worthy of documentation: the blooming onion from Outback, that strawberry daiquiri that sent my 18-year-old head spinning, the random guy who said “What’s up?” in line at the movie theater. All of it made for juicy retelling. And THANK GOODNESS. Who am I (who are any of us) to be such stingy editors of our own lives?
These letters, some of which were written in abstract spiral form, requiring the paper to be rotated while read, and inked in alternating glitter pens, are a tangible reminder that as a young person, friendship ruled my universe. These letters were not simply exchanges with acquaintances. They were love letters in their own right. And I plan to keep them forever.
Speaking of love letters, I hope you caught Amy Lynn Carter’s moving tribute to her mother, the former First Lady Rosalynn Carter.
In light of her father’s declining health, Amy chose to read a letter written by her father to her mother. Simple and sweet, President Carter’s words capture a moment in their love story, pulling back the veil of their public-facing personas, and offering a glimpse of themselves as ordinary, lovesick humans. What a gift for a daughter to behold, let alone a nation.
I find so much to admire about the Carters. Not only was Mrs. Carter a staunch advocate for caregivers (I was honored to speak on a panel at the Rosalynn Carter Institute back in 2019), but in these days of seemingly waning integrity, the Carters’ dedication to their moral code - one that emphasized family, simplicity, and humility - is something I wish more of our leaders possessed. For me, the Carters’ legacy symbolizes something more important than power: It symbolizes people.
There is beauty in simplicity, though I don’t wish away the digital communications of our time. Email, social media, and texts serve unalterable functions in today’s world, chief among them, efficiency. But how often are we prone to printing out a kind Facebook comment or framing an email? How easy or difficult is it to point to those exchanges with another human when the only footprint is digital? When words touch us deeply, we wish to hold them in our hands, to possess them for the future. At least I do.
So, I decided to write a letter.
I knew exactly who I wanted to write to. It’s someone I admire deeply but to whom I have never fully revealed the extent of my admiration. I frequently think kind things about this person, but the vulnerability involved in finding a suitable moment to say them aloud has prevented me from actually doing it. Anyway, I’m better in writing (at least that’s what I tell myself).
When I sat down with my new peacock stationery and finally put the words on paper, I recognized that my feelings ran deeper than I was even aware. There were layers to my admiration I hadn’t before dissected, and by the end of the letter, I found myself experiencing a powerful surge of gratitude for this person’s influence in my life.
In short, it felt good to put my appreciation into words. Plus, there was the bonus of getting to drop my letter inside the post office box (which still fills me with a childlike thrill!).
I hope it won’t be the last real letter I drop in the mail. Every piece of writing we leave in this world is a puzzle piece in understanding our human journey. After publishing my memoir, I realized that no matter how many strangers’ eyes made it to those pages, they would forever be preserved for my kids.
That, in itself, made the writing a worthy effort.
Your (optional) homework this week:
Reflect, have you ever received a note or letter that made you feel good? Even if it’s an email, go back and re-read it. What words made you you feel seen, appreciated, understood? What felt true?
Write a letter to someone who had a positive impact on your life. Maybe it’s someone you see often but with whom you feel awkward sharing these words aloud. Maybe it’s someone you haven’t connected with in a long time or someone who is no longer living. Don’t think too hard. Just set a timer for 15 minutes, and if it’s appropriate, send it.
3 Book Recommendations that Celebrate Letter Writing:
Early Readers: The Day the Crayons Quit by Drew Daywalt. If you don’t know this book already, you probably don’t have children. But actually, you don’t need kids to enjoy this hilarious collection of letters written by aggrieved crayons.
Middle Grade: I Will Always Write Back by Caitlin Alifirenka & Martin Ganda. A dual memoir told by penpals across the world, who, through their writing and friendship, closed the distance between Zimbabwe and Pennsylvania.
Adults: Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates. I first read this powerful book back when it was published, but struggled to absorb the many layers of Coates’ experience that were foreign to me as a white woman. The world has changed so much in the years since, inviting me to return to it again. Recently, Coates has been the target of rampant and overtly racist book banning. Here he is attending a school-board meeting to back up a teacher who wished to use his text.
Two of my most treasured possessions are a binder full of the letters Bob wrote to me while on his mission, and the scrapbook/love letter book I made for him before he left and that he updated on for our 10 year anniversary. Hand written letters are absolute treasures!