(In loving memory of my grandpa, Charles H. Greene)
I love you more.
The familiar phrase, passed down from one generation to the next, ending phone conversations, visits home and penned as salutation in mailed letters. And as a final farewell, after the lungs breathed their last, a note with these words was scrolled, gently folded and quietly slipped in his pocket. Buried with him in the ground; a memento that his legacy would continue through his children, grandchildren and beyond.
His letters, now bundled and tied neatly with bow, act as windows to the past, reminders that his family was always held near to his heart. And although the familiar slant remained, the once confident and smooth lines of his cursive were betrayed by the tired hand of age. The last treasured card signed, through great effort of unsteady hand: I love you more! Grandpa.
Rereading these letters serves as a visual reminder, a physical token, of life and love. The smears of the ink, the strike through of words, the thoughts unedited, untouched by autocorrect. Real and raw and precious, especially now that the one who wrote them can longer be touched, these left behind letters carry his presence.
How will our notes be passed to the next? Through texts, emails, emojis? Will the perfect lines and curves of our favorite font be that which carries our memory?
Technology has it’s place, no doubt, furthering our reach, increasing impact, improving efficiency. But perhaps the greatest peril is in the loss of the personal, handwritten touch.
Let’s reclaim the joy of the mailbox visit in 2018 by sprinkling brightly colored envelopes amidst the inevitable junk and bills. A tangible token. A handwritten note takes more time and effort than an email, and the little bit of extra can brighten the day of another. After all, an actual note found in the box is a precious gem these days.
I want 2018 to be a year where love is seen, heard, felt and held. And maybe, just maybe, little notes delivered in boxes are a great place to start. Maybe it’s a way to honor those of years gone by, like my grandfather, who sent their love in envelopes. Where instead of riding the waves of the internet, messages were passed from hand to hand, box to box. Where opening an envelope allowed one to see and hold a piece of their loved one. Where the stain of I love you more was seen on paper, but felt in the deepest places of the heart.
I’d love for you to join me.
It’s easy, really.
- Choose a card or piece of paper. Fancy or plain, it’s all the same. (cute cards, 8 for $1 at the Dollar Spot at Target)
- Write a note. The length is not important, just make sure it’s something personal and encouraging.
- Before you seal the envelope, include an unused stamp. Mention in your note that the unused stamp is for them to send a letter to a loved one. Encourage them to include an unused stamp in their note.
- Seal and address the envelope. Don’t forget the stamp.
- Repeat as desired.
I hope you will participate. I would love for this little endeavor to be a huge encouragement to others.
Happy (hand)writing!