I miss handwritten letters: writing, reading and caressing them. For a while in the last decade I did replace letter writing with emails but that too died soon since there was no reciprocation from people to whom I sent my long email letters. Tonight I read an essay titled "I hope I haven't bored you" by Christopher Spaide on Poetry Foundation discussing James Merrill's letters to his friend. The article also mentions excerpts from a new book on Merrill titled: A Whole World: Letters from James Merrill (Knopf, 2021), coedited by Merrill’s biographer, Langdon Hammer, and his literary executor, the poet-critic Stephen Yenser.
Something kept running through my mind as I read about Merrill writing letters as a six year old and through his adulthood. I thought, what are my memories from childhood? Apart from the now fading kodak photographs and memories, is there any other physical vestige that I could carry into my old age? Surprisingly, I couldn't think of any. I do have an occasional little trinket like a school badge or so, but nothing significant. My parents have preserved a few schoolbooks that I used and they are very cute to now look at with their illustrations and art from more than 25 years ago. However, I do not have anything that I seem to have preserved and kept for myself. Who knew if I would ever regret not doing so? Although, I do have my diaries from the age of 14 and above. I first began writing and maintaining a diary after my Dad gave me one filled with quotes. The entries were mostly about movies I had watched and books I read, about school tests and a few about friends' birthdays. How innocent our worlds were back then! Now that I do think in detail, I have quite a collection of handmade and store bought greeting cards. It was a quite a thing back then. The whole new millennium vibe was to propagate Archies and Hallmark stores with their gifts and cards section being a huge hit with collegians. I was still a child when this hoopla was big and it died slowly by the time I was in college. Of course until then, as a kid I made handmade personalized greeting cards for birthdays. It is certainly lovely to see these cards once in a while when I clean my wardrobe.
Dang! I just remembered that I DID WRITE LETTERS to a pen pal. How could I forget that and berate myself for no vestige from my childhood! We wrote regularly from 2001 until 2005. Then, we grew up and chose different paths in life. Nonetheless those were the most beautiful days of awaiting eagerly and peep into the mailbox once everyday on my visit from school in the afternoons. Many years later, I started Postcrossing and sending postcards across the world to strangers. I continued that from 2013 until 2018. I miss sending postcards too now. With the pandemic, any hopes of reviving this activity shall have to wait longer. I remember how I carefully chose quotes and poetry by Sara Teasdale, Emily Dickinson, Yeats, Charlotte Bronte and Amy Lowell among many others. If I knew myself any better, I would say I poured my soul into writing on those cards. The smiles got bigger every time I reached out into my mailbox and found a postcard with those pretty stamps and messages from people I would never meet. Maybe all of us should do this. Write to strangers about our lives, the music in our hearts, the light in our souls, the dark passages and everything that lights up our world! That would make living so much more joyful. Instead of burdening ourselves with the knowledge that all bad happens in our vicinity, these tit bits from strangers around the world would help us appreciate life a little more every day. I know so many people need to find this ray of hope. As I write at this hour, I feel utterly quiet and peaceful within. To more such days and nights ahead where we cherish all that is with us. Here's hoping we keep finding meaning in our moments and live well in them!
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