Within the past couple of weeks, I helped my parents clean out and sell their condo in Southwest Florida. Mom and Pop are now in their 80’s and have chosen to move to an excellent assisted living facility nearby.
The clean out required that I make room in the garage for some memorabilia and family heirlooms in order to preserve them for posterity. During this process, I came across some letters that I kept from my college days nearly 35 years ago. I had a vague memory that this collection of letters existed, and yet, I had no idea what treasure(s) were contained within. Among the gems was a series of correspondence with my maternal grandfather, who by this time was also in his 80s. The introduction to one of those letters is reproduced here in the image that accompanies this post.
I remain stupefied at the finding. And yet, it’s beginning to make sense. In the early 1980’s I went to college in rural southwestern Virginia about 450 miles from home. Long distance telephone calls were still exceedingly expensive, and during my freshman year, we needed to venture down the hallway to a shared payphone if we wanted to make or receive a call. Also, my grandfather was of a generation born before WWI where letter writing was de rigueur.
What’s astonishing about the discovery is that while I felt a close kinship to my paternal grandfather, the relationship with my maternal grandfather was distant–at best. And yet, here are the letters. Among them is the chronicling of my grandmother’s death who passed away at home on February 19, 1982. The tone of that letter reminds me of my grandfather’s stoicism.
I share this story in this venue as a reminder that it is still possible to correspond directly with folks by reviving the [lost] art of letter writing. I’m not talking about just sending a handwritten thank you note for a gift received (although that is a good start). I’m suggesting that you get yourself some handsome card stock, sit down with a pen (fountain pen if you have one) and craft a handwritten note to an employee, friend, business partner, colleague, or dare I say–a romantic interest.
In these days where the written word is digitized (like this post) and whirls around the world at the speed of light, there is value in slowing down with pen and paper to write a traditional analog letter, putting it in a stamped envelope and sending it by post. I encourage you to give it a try. A gift like that can reach across time. I can share that 35 years after receiving letters from my grandfather, I am grateful for the gift of his letters and that the art of letter writing survives with me.
David Langiulli is a certified professional coach who helps nonprofit leaders flourish and thrive.