I was rummaging through my mother’s attic looking for some treasures to fill up my son’s new digs, when I happened upon a box labeled "Letters: Carol." In spite of being terrified that I might uncover my mother’s last intentions and instructions to me, I nonetheless took a deep breath and lifted the lid. And what I found were not letters from Mother to me, but rather letters from me to her. From college, from trips to Europe. . .even from my first apartment in New York City. Sent all the way to New Jersey.
Although they were hardly great literary classics, they were certainly fun to see again. I have difficulty remembering what I had for breakfast this morning, but people and events and passions of the past came to life as though they were just happening. A plethora of exclamation points and dashes and furious underlining of the most important stuff made the written words speak out loud and clear!
What ever happened to writing letters?
E-mail happened. And then Text Messaging. That’s what.
We still keep in touch, all right, and we do it fast, fast, fast with no extra words, no capital letters, no punctuation, no emotion. Type it fast. Read it fast. Get it over with. Dot com. Type type type. Press send button. Whoosh. Message sent. Beep. Message received. LOL.Forget about it. Dot.com. Over and out.
We’ve abandoned nice salutations like "My Dearest Elizabeth," and seductive closings like, "I’m counting the minutes ‘til I see you, darling. All my love forever. . " We don’t even write "Dear Mrs. Gardner" and "As always, your friend . ." We type the message. Period. Dot com.
Love, Carol. Dot.Com
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Flunking Dog Bath
Wrapping It Up
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