TBD on Ning


Now is the time when I get a craving for the "good old
days" in a certain form. Don't get me wrong...I love
technology, especially computers, and the power they put at the
tips of my fingers...manipulating gigabits of information in
microseconds; rendering drawings in fine detail from pull-down
menus that provide a plethora of choices that would confuse and
frighten Michaelangelo...but

When contemplating writing you a letter today, I longed for the
preparation of writing...throwing a dozen pillows all over the bed,
cracking the window so that the breeze would riffle the sheer
curtains across the pages every time I paused and daydreamed while
wondering where you were sitting after it arrived in your
hands. Perhaps in front of a fire, feet and butt snuggled
down in the beach sand with a throw across your shoulders, maybe
apple wood popping now and again, sending a small cascade of sparks
to the heavens.

I missed the act of putting pen to paper, watching the ink unfurl
at the end of my pen and leaving traces of me all over the paper
you would be holding in your hands...paper I spent an extra five
minutes selecting for your letter, with perhaps some crushed
chamomile flower petals and leaves pressed into the fibers...

It really is much better; this old way of doing things. How
else to experience some closeness, some Truths, even across miles
after miles, and endless hours. When my children write me I
can smell them in my letters...it pierces me with a keener edge
than any blade, and my love for them flows out of me as my tears
drop upon their words, intermingling me with them once
again...across the miles...across the days.

You once made an observation that I have a bit of the romantic in
me. How right you are. As I admit, even cherish, that
fact, I wonder about my children, and yours, and our grandchildren;
and the hundreds of very intimate things that people used to share
with one another as a normal course of events, in the normal
humdrum of daily living, that are being abandoned, forgotten;
replaced with the sterility of electrons and
LCD's..."Instant Messenger"...emoticons for God's
sake! (Scrooge is alive and well and living in New

Well, me and the kids managed to carry over some of the old little
personal touches to the next generation...you know; you did it
too! The things that your kids think make you
"cool", the things they have in their blood now that they
couldn't explain now even if they tried...some of them very
basic. Like...does anyone prefer to look you in the eye when
they have a conversation with you rather than yelling at you over a
cell phone in the midst of rush-hour traffic? How about
eating at least a meal together as a family...every single
day? Or sitting in the same room together watching a movie
and someone's arm just wanders over the space between you and
and starts running its fingers through your hair. I know you
did it too, Laurene, just from hearing you describe your
granddaughter the other day. The loving things, the little
intimate human things that bind us to one another stronger than any
cement. Well, there are a lot of others who didn't bother
noticing things like that. And guess what...they never
noticed it was gone, either.

I'm gonna go and write another letter to my kids,
Laurene...thinking of you, too.


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Comment by Aggie on May 6, 2019 at 10:38am

I miss the letters, now I mostly just get texts on the cell phone.

Comment by Becca Lynne on October 4, 2010 at 7:42am
This is very moving. I too miss the way was...I enjoy being able to send a message with a click of a button, but I so enjoy getting a hand written letter. Like you said you can smell them, it reaches into your chest and squeezes your heart.

I enjoy your Blog.



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