To Dispatch, or Not To Dispatch?

The following is adapted from www.dictionary.com, because who the heck references hard copy anymore??

Mail:
Noun:
1. letters, packages, etc., that are sent or delivered by means of the postal system: Storms delayed delivery of the mail.
2. The system, usually operated or supervised by the national government, for sending or delivering letters, packages, etc.; postal system: to buy clothes by mail.

Verb:
1. to send by mail; place in a post office or mailbox for transmission.

Yesterday I received letters from my nieces in Vermont. They came in my mailbox, which I check irregularly for bills and exciting fliers for products that I wasn't aware I needed. Their letters came in a single envelope that had a picture of a cow on it. How clever! That cow picture was my first tip (Ho ho! Cow! Tip! Same sentence!) that this was no offer for a 3.2% interest rate, noooo indeedy, nor was it a reminder that I continue to need to make a monthly "payment" for the privilege of "owning" my home. Upon seeing the cow picture, my mind immediately leaped to a summer during which I had an unnatural and unfortunate liking of cow motifs, and for a moment I thought the ghost of Bessie had come to visit me. But then I looked more closely and was treated to the complete picture, which showed the cow wearing sunglasses at the beach! And then I knew it had to be from one of my crazy famblee members because we go to the beach every year and it's our thing and the time is quickly coming for our reunion, and...well, you get it.

Anyhoo, I was delighted to find that it was from my nieces. Their letters contained chatty little updates about their lives--reading tests, broken arms, dance recitals, a health update on their cat--that reminded me how much of each others' lives we miss by not living nearby or, in the absence of that, at least communicating regularly. When I was little, I remember my father diligently tapping out letters to his family on Saturday mornings. Before the advent of the Commodore 64, he used something called a typewriter and carbon paper to make multiple copies to send out to branches of the family. Looking back, I realize that he was showing by example the importance of keeping in touch. Back then, long-distance phone calls were pretty much exclusively used for Big News; a long-distance call usually started with the words, "Sit down, Ma, I got something to tell ya," as Ma clutched at her heart with one hand. Letters, however, were used to convey the details of daily life, the little stories that may have individually seemed insignificant, but together wove a tapestry of life as it existed right then. I love reading all letters, but particularly old family ones. They offer a spyglass into lives of which I was never even a part. Others give me insight into my parents' lives at various stages, while occasionally a particularly naughty moment of one of my siblings was caught on paper. (I was never naughty so everything ever written about me was put on gold leaf and circled and starred and accompanied by pictures of angels.)

One letter that particularly stands out to me is one I received from a brother during my freshman year in college. In a spasm of independence, I had decided to break up with my high school boyfriend of three years. While I was excited about all the possibilities that being 18 and single brought, I was a little wobbly with the newness of it all, too. And then out of the blue came a letter from Stinky, who hitherto had been the bane of my existence. We were champions in the division of hard-headedness; most of our interactions consisted of fighting over the TV channel while trying to grab the bag of Cheetos away from one another. So it was a mammoth surprise to get a letter from him offering understanding and encouragement at a difficult time. He wrote of how hard a breakup can be, but emphasized all the new experiences awaiting me and encouraged me to enjoy this new stage of my life. Now, even at his advanced age, he'd still steal my Cheetos away in a heartbeat, but it's nice to have hard evidence that a softer side does exist. And anyone will tell you how important it is to know your brother is on your side when the going gets tough.

Like everyone, these days I use e-mail and phone calls to keep in touch. Even my father eventually succumbed to the ease of instant communication. But these nieces of mine have inspired me to write real letters again. There's something different about putting your thoughts on paper that e-mail and IM just can't capture. And what about you? You know how I like to pick your big brains (ew). Who was the last person to whom you wrote a letter? What was the most memorable letter you ever received? At $0.43 a whack, do you think you'll ever send out snail mail again? Come on, fill my empty mental spaces with your thoughts. Otherwise there's just a lot of mooing going on in here.