Corresponding

I recently devoured Virginia Evans' novel The Correspondent in two days. It's the kind of book that stays with me because it has a character that I fall in love with for their humanness and an ending that makes my heart swell with emotion. And, it's an epistolary novel, composed entirely of letters and emails both to and from the main character, Sybil Van Antwerp, who is funny and flawed and still learning about life, love, and forgiveness in her 70s. You should definitely read it if you haven't already!

But this post is not a book review; it's about letter writing. The main character's proclivity for letter writing reminded me that, as a kid, I too was a letter writer. This realization sort of surprised me because, to be honest, I haven't thought about writing a letter in a long time.  

I let my mind wander down memory lane, and I thought about how I corresponded with a great aunt for years. Once when she was visiting, she mentioned that she used to write letters to her aunts when she was young. I can't for the life of me remember the context surrounding this comment--maybe she just wanted to get some mail--but I began to write her letters. 

I also remembered the Christmas that my cousin Jennifer and I realized that we had so much in common and immediately decided to become pen pals. (She lived twenty minutes away!) In the letters we addressed each other by a code number, which I cannot reveal, and even formed an "official society" based on our favorite animals.  

Once I met a girl at the pool while on vacation with my family, We swam together all week, and then wrote letters to each other for years. I still remember the honesty of her letters as her family navigated her father losing his job and struggling to find new work. It was eye-opening for me, and now, as an adult, I can't help but wonder if writing me those letters was an outlet for difficult feelings. 

From school projects I corresponded with a pen pal from Belgium and a pen pal from San Diego. In college, I wrote letters back and forth with my high school friends, and during the summer with my new college friends. I wrote and received letters from my grandma, my aunts, and my parents and siblings. I got letters from a ten year old boy who lived across the street, a friend of my dad's, and a friend of my aunt's. Looking back, the amount of letters I wrote and received seems astounding to me. Once when I was in fifth grade, my mom and I went to a neighboring church for confession and I came out of the confessional pen pals with the priest! I also once wrote a letter to Kraft with the sole purpose of expressing how much I loved their Cheez Whiz product. (They did write back!)

All of this made me wonder: when did I stop writing letters? I still like to send out cards and notes, but when was the last time I wrote a real letter? It's fun to keep in touch by sending texts and funny reels, but the thought and care that goes into a handwritten letter can't even compare.

One of favorite writers and podcasters, Gretchen Rubin, has said to think about the things you loved doing as a kid and to reconnect with that joy by engaging in something that your ten-year-old self would have delighted in doing. So, I think that I will write a letter today. And, who knows? Perhaps I will write another letter after that. 

The good news is that I have kept all of the letters that I have received since childhood, starting with the letters from my great aunt Yvonne. There are boxes full of them! So, if you have ever written me a letter, know that from a young age I knew what a treasure it was and that I have kept it. 

It's likely that with all the snow, the weekend will be extended. It will be the perfect time to sit down with my pen and paper.