A - B R E A D C R U M B
In a fire I know I wouldn't be able to grab them all, but there is something about a letter. Just a plain-old, hand-written letter. Someone's choice of stamps, the broken-up cancellation mark from the city it was sent. Seeing your own name and address du jour. The handwriting. The message from another soul inside. Better yet, the anticipation of that message from another soul inside. And... the passing of time from when it was written and sealed, to when you are standing there holding it. Touching it.
BREADCRUMB: As I'm writing this blog this morning right now, I can hear the tune to that new Hallmark commercial that I LOVE on TV... "Say what you need to say." Girl [with cgi butterflies near her tummy] on a school bus opens a sweet card from her mom... she smiles upon reading it and the butterflies flitter away, out the window. The powerful ability of someone else's words to touch you.
I'm a sucker for trinkets that spark your memory.
I have flower petals from mind-shifting moments. I have ticket stubs from some memorable concerts. Even the ticket from my first flight to Paris. But the correspondences between two people in the slow, deliberate, hand-written, un-editable way of a sealed letter will always, always win out over email, facebook, twitter, even blogging/comments, and whatever next month's new technology is.
Who doesn't get giddy when a text comes in from your favorite person? But how do you tie that up and save it again to reminisce on later?
When we get to stroll back through these letters, they're like a time capsule, revealing the story of that singular moment in our life. A lesson or simply a gentle remembrance of a different time.
How will today's kids go back to share 'that first IM' with their kids and grandkids? Just sayin.'
©2009 Wendy Hudgins