You've Got Mail

Doesn't anyone miss getting letters in the mail these days? I mean personal letters, not bank statements or credit card and electric bills. In the era of email and text messages and Facebook, I find myself missing the personal touch that comes with a hand-written letter. I'm not so old that I grew up in an era where "snail mail" was the only way to keep in touch, but I don't think it's an art that should be forgotten, even though there are faster ways to get messages across. I don't mind words on a screen when it something to the effect of "Hey, what are the plans for tonight," but do we really have to forget everything Jane Austen taught us?

Throughout her novels, we find people writing letters to each other, of varying lengths containing varying emotions. Having spent my teenage years learning the lessons Ms. Austen felt the need to share with us, I have quite a fondness for letters. I would love it if my boyfriend wrote me a letter explaining his actions after we have a fight that upset me, or if a friend who lives far away wrote me a letter instead of just writing an email. There's something about knowing that your loved one, whether a friend or relative or lover, moved their hand across that page, that they were the last person to touch it before putting it into the envelope, reading their handwriting and seeing the parts where they gripped the pen harder with emotions or their penmanship got worse from writing swiftly from excitement that makes reading a letter almost intimate. The arrival of mail was always an exciting moment in Austen novels. Why do we deny ourselves the joy of seeing familiar handwriting on an envelope in the mailbox and the excitement of opening a letter, the whole time wondering what is written in it?

I am a lover of the written word; I like it when others express themselves through writing. Yes, email is writing, but something about having something tangible to store in a shoe box and look at many years later with nostalgia appeals to me. Maybe one day, I'll finally open my mailbox and find something worth getting excited for again. Till then, a girl can dream...