My dearest…

As you know I’m very sentimental. I used to have a box filled with notes and letters I received from when I was about seven years old onward. It was sadly thrown away by someone that thought it nothing but rubbish. I had that box for eighteen years. It was filled with childhood laughter and giggles, moments of heartbreak or support and just fun notes and trinkets. I miss those bits of memories taken from me but I at least still hold the memories within me.

There is something special about a handwritten letter. It’s tangible, has a smell and has the writers personality trapped in the handwriting. Back when we wrote notes and letters we took pride in which paper, the choice of an image on it or not, scented or plain, just folded, folded in a shape, placed in an envelope or not. There was excitement in the delivery of it, sending it along classroom seats, slipped into someone’s bag, delivered by mail. There was even more excitement receiving one!

I miss that. Technology is fantastic, practical, quick and effortless but it lacks the feel and appreciation that you had knowing someone put effort into something written for you to read.

What I miss most from my box is the small pack of letters I took from my dad’s cupboard as a child. One or two letters written by my granddad to my grandmother… I loved the way he versed himself. It was so beautiful. The care he took in writing his words with the neatest handwriting. I remember he always signed off saying ” met liefde van jou beminde” which translates to ” with love from your darling or sweetheart. Sigh, I wish I could read through all those old letters again, smell the smells and recall the event and memories connected to them.

There is just something so memorable and priceless about something so tangible.


3 thoughts on “My dearest…

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