I've been trying to write letters whenever I sit down to pay the bills.
For those of you who don't know my history, I've only been in the south for two years. Many of the people I love are scattered around the country, and there are many that I haven't seen once in those two years. So I have decided to start writing letters, trying to strengthen the ties across the miles.
When I was a child, I loved getting mail, but I hated writing letters. My mother would frequently "encourage" (force) me to sit at the little red desk, which my brother now claims as his, and write to our distant family and friends. Once I got started (usually after an hour of grumbling and arguing, me that I was too tired, her that writing would improve my penmanship; it hasn't) I really enjoyed writing letters. Here was my chance to tell these distant folks everything about me! I always started the same way: "how are you? I am fine."
Mom would encourage me to include more questions that showed I was taking an interest, but I just wanted to get to the good stuff: talking about my horse, or the play I was in now, or what I got for my birthday...
I try to write better letters now, but I do admit to indulging in the occasional Holiday letter...shame.
But the letter I got back tonight made me cry, and reaffirmed my resolve to write real, pen and paper and stamp letters. There's something special about an envelope addressed to you in teenager hand, and a letter containing a school photo of a girl who will forever be five years old in my heart.
Sometimes, I miss a lot of people. But I am blessed to have a lot of people around me who I don't have to miss.