pen pals

It started with my two cousins. We were so close that our aunt dubbed us (and still refers to us as) “the three musketeers,” but the 9 hour trip between our hometowns made spending time together a challenge. Letters became our way of bridging the gap.

We weren’t very good at it, to be honest. Our responses lagged, words sprouting slowly from fingertips. But still we plugged on, occasional letter after occasional letter.

See, there was something magic about letter-writing that eleven-year-old Emma understood, something she couldn’t quite put into words but chased anyways.

Eighteen-year-old Emma is still chasing it.

Caroline lives in New York City, sends artsy cards (but always overflows her writing to the back side) and writes with lots of exclamation points. Mckenzie from home writes sweet and simple, with wry little jokes thrown into unexpected places, just like how she talks. Madi from Chicago — well, Madi and I aren’t very good at keeping up, but her letters are silly and sweet and remind me of so many days spent romping through the streets of historic Savannah.

And in my desk drawer, I still have a folder full of every letter John sent me while he was in basic training — rushed jet-black words scribbled in the late hours of night on West Point letterhead, hasty details and military acronyms that I had to google, lopsided hearts in the margins.

There is a sweetness and an honesty to written mail, a vulnerability behind putting your life on paper. I hold onto these sheets of notebook paper because they are living proof of intention – they are acts of love, every single one of them.

1 thought on “pen pals”

  1. There is something beautiful about handwritten letters that no other form of communication can replicate. I love the way you describe the different styles of each person’s letters. You captured pieces of their personalities through the way they write, which is what letters so special. I also enjoyed how each sentence had meaning—you said a lot without writing a lot. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s