Letters

In recent posts, I've referenced an archival project I've been working on for two years.

Even though I'm very good at saving photos, letters, and memorabilia, I haven't been very good about organizing them and storing them in an easily-viewable format (e.g., photo albums, scrapbooks). So they've sat in boxes.

For this project, I've gathered all such items and relocated them to one place -- our guest room closet -- then separated them into three main categories: photos, cards & letters, and other memorabilia.

Within those categories, I've been filing the contents by date, making note of various occasions and important people recollected with these items. I'm happy to have arrived at the tail end of this organizing phase. Next will come digitizing. Finally, I will store them in labeled photo albums, scrapbooks, and photo boxes on shelves available to the entire family. After all, the reason I've saved these items all these years is not just to be able to claim that I did so; rather, I want our family to be able to peruse these artifacts at will, retelling stories, revisiting old friends or lost family members, remembering vacations, and generally marveling over the evolution of our lives.

Last night, I completed the organizing of old cards and letters that I've saved since elementary school. Although some have been lost or discarded over the years, generally, if someone wrote me, his or her words have been saved.

I've made an interesting discovery: Some of these letters make reference to periods of my life that I actually don't remember. For example, yesterday I read several letters and florists' cards from friends, sent many years ago, with wishes to get well soon. I've been puzzling over this. I don't remember being ill during the time in which the letters were sent. Of course, it could have been a period of emotional distress, not simply a physical ailment. I'm just not sure. It must have been significant enough for my friends to send me letters and flowers.

But whatever it was, as significant as it was at the time, I've clearly gotten over it. Moved on.

However, it moved me to see that, with whatever was troubling me at the time, I had friends who were concerned and who took the time to tell me I was on their minds. That's comforting to know, even if I never remember why I was the subject of their concern.

In the past decade, the number of letters in my archives is much smaller than in the prior two decades. This is despite the fact that my circle of friends has expanded. And despite the fact that I do keep in touch with them, and they with me. The difference is the Internet. These days, we keep in touch more frequently, but more briefly. And even though I save the e-mails, I don't print them out. When I switch from one computer to another, I often don't transfer the saved e-mail messages to the new computer. So, essentially, they're lost.

Since the contents of the letters and e-mails I receive from friends are a reflection of our current lives, they document many events in my life. Some I will remember always. Some I will forget as I move on.

As a saver, I feel fortunate to possess such wonderful correspondence from friends and family. And I feel a bit saddened by the e-correspondence I haven't saved. I can change that, starting now.

But there's nothing like a good old-fashioned letter written in one's own handwriting. I think I'll write some letters today.