The Lost Art of The Letter

(I found this waiting for me in the kitchen yesterday morning from WonderBoy)

I'm a note lover.

I have been for as long and I can remember.

I'm a note writer and a note saver.

I have notes from my childhood that I passed in the classroom with my BFFE.

I have notes from my parents, my siblings, my friends, my grandmother.

I have notes from old flames and loved ones long gone.

They are inscribed in books, written in real ink on beautiful stationary, jotted down on a scrap of paper, written in my own lipstick on a brown paper bag (a reminder to me never to leave my BEST lipstick lying around!), scrawled on the back of a waiter's dupe pad, inside a matchbook cover, on a restaurant placemat, typed on an old Smith Coron@, etched into a leaf from far across the ocean, left in a papertrail of scraps for me to find to work out the puzzle of the sentiments it held together as I found it. Some are notes that were tucked inside my luggage or pockets as I travelled or a sticky note stuck precariously on my rearview mirror. Some I photographed so as to always remember them...a message in the sand, footprints in the snow harkening a warm heart or the magical appearance of a sweet word in the fog of the bathroom mirror.

They mean the world to me...all of them.

I have them all tucked neatly away, organized and labeled by person and time.

A continuum of cherished memories.

They remind me of the different seasons of my life, and how those events, along with the people I loved and who loved me, have shaped who and where I am today.

They are my little time capsules.

When I hold them in my hands I am transported back there,

with the knowledge and appreciation of today,

and I can reminisce...

an inside moment all my own.

There's nothing like those notes to comfort, ground me or make me soar.

They are a reminder of who I am and who I always have been.

They are my golden treasures.

Not surprisingly, I leave WonderBoy and JR notes all the time.

The little thinking of you notes, the i love you notes and

the thank you for being you notes,

those are my favorite kind of notes to leave.

These are the variety of notes I leave in WonderBoy's lunchbox to remind him that at that very moment he reads my note, I'm somewhere thinking of him.

Sometimes I leave a little chocolate kiss for him on his dresser with a note to find when he gets home from school. Then I'll find the silver foil remnants of that chocolate kiss along with my note tucked inside his secret treasure (cigar) box.

Other times, I'll leave him a note under his pillow to remind him how happy I was to share the day with him and how much I look forward to another tomorrow as his mommy.

In this day of lightning speed communication by email, text and instant messaging...

the fine art of the truly written word is all but lost.

I have had the privilege of holding in my hands tangible evidence of the many ways people in my life have shown their appreciation, kindness, encouragement, admiration, sympathy, congratulations, words of inspiration, passion,

humor and love for me and took the time to put it in writing.

I realize that at the moments I may have recieved some of those precious missives, I may have underestimated their importance however, having had the foresight to save them over the years, I have been enriched by them many times over.

I want to ensure that my children will always know the simple joys of holding such a personal treasure of their own in their hands one day.

Long ago I began to save the notes JR and I wrote to WonderBoy in a box I've created just for him...notes that we and others who adore him have given him over the years. I date them on the back and write a short explanation of the circumstances surrounding the recipt of that note and tuck them away to be found one day as WonderBoys hands and heart grow over the years.

I started a box for Sweetie as well and I hope one day she and her brother will open their boxes at different times in their lives and cherish the written words that the people who have been with them along the way contributed to the tapestry of their lives.