scribblechic

What if we traded predesigned cards for letters, looked past unnecessary collectables and gathered memories in print or photographs to honor birthdays and special occasions?  A year or two ago a friend celebrated her husband’s birthday in letters; blank stationery accompanied each invitation for guests to share a memory or story.  A mosaic of eclectic moments from a life held together by friendship and love.  Enamored by the sentimental gift of memories, I immediately longed for the pages of letters that have littered my past.

As a little girl I would connect pieces of my life from one parent’s house to another in letters.  I would write friends from what felt like the other side of the world.  Letters seemed to transport friends from school years past into the present tense, filling unfamiliar moments with comfort.  I miss the bold careful print in brightly colored crayons and awkward loops of early script  punctuated with scribbles.

In love, I created stories in letters.  I would focus on the good and let pages of daydreams mark the space of young love.  Too young to date, I tied my notes in heartstrings and tucked them into a young boy’s letterman jacket to keep myself in his thoughts.  I wonder how close my dreams of love would reflect the life I have created.

Even now, faces from another time come to me in unexpected memories and I send a note sharing the sentiment. Tiny trinkets of gratitude, inspiration, or humor for moments from lives intersecting.  I often wonder how these words are received, but mostly I find joy in the act of sharing the timeless gift of remembering.

Tagged: Gift, Letters, Memories