Sat on the porch mid-morning pondering in the swing and thinking about the dying art of letter writing. Wasn’t too cold till it got damp and windy. Didn’t mind the temperature because I want it to be cold enough for Mother Nature to blow some snowflakes my way Saturday! Should have visited my grandchildren this weekend. They’ve got a weather advisory that says they might get two inches. That’s snowman building snow. My granddaughter says she’s never used her snowman building kit so maybe she can finally break it out.

I filled up the bird feeders with black oil sunflower seeds and washed out the bird baths. Missed seeing my wood thrush friend. A little flock of sparrows was flitting and fighting around the suet baskets. Had my usual cardinals gathered with their titmice and chickadee friends. Saw Downey the downy woodpecker and one nuthatch. A single male American goldfinch, just starting to sport his yellow coat, was flying around the feeders trying to find an empty space. Mr. Goldfinch usually brings a little flock of females with him but I never saw them while I was outside. If it were to snow, I’ll pop them some popcorn and throw it out in the yard. Makes such a pretty picture when the different bird species, all wearing colored feathered coats, hop around in the snow eating popcorn. When the kids were little we’d always pop popcorn for the birds on a snow day.

Been catching up with my letter writing this afternoon. I love going to the mailbox each day thinking I might have a letter from one of my friends. My boss from Russell Corporation is my most faithful correspondent. I call her Boss Lady. She never liked the word boss so I would tease her and now I just automatically call her Boss Lady, specifically in my writings. We are pretty regular in our correspondence. When I mail her a letter, I go back to the mailbox with anticipation of a letter from her. We always laugh about typing our letters to each other.

Chief said typed letters were not letters…real letters were written in pen and ink. We always write our addresses on the front of the envelopes in pen and ink. Mainly because we’re technology challenged and can’t print an envelope on our printers. I, though, have mastered the front and back page printing technique. Gonna teach her that to conserve paper! Her letters are fat and exciting when they arrive. Mine are thin but hopefully just as exciting. I always save her letter and don’t read it till I’ve done my chores. It’s a wonderful prize to end the day with.

During the Covid lockdown, when the day care was closed, I would occasionally write my little baby friends. I missed them and our early morning times. They would write back and I’ll always cherish those little notes written by themselves and some of their mothers, who captured their words and emotions so perfectly. Through the years I’ve been pen pals with several nieces and nephews, too. One of my nephews writes a letter like a grown man. He’s a busy little fella with all his activities so we kinda write in spirts. One of my older nephews recently sent me a moving, heartfelt text and I printed it off and put it in my jewelry box with my prized notes and letters.

My mother and I corresponded several days a week when I was in college. We never talked on the telephone. Almost every day of the week in college I’d have a letter in my mailbox. I found these letters cleaning out an upstairs closet when I moved back home. I had letters from high school friends, momma and daddy, my sisters-in-law, my high school boy friend’s mother, my grandmother. One day I’m going to read them all again and savor the moments and memories we wrote about.

I have a letter from my daddy written right after I began my freshman year in college. He writes toward the end of the letter, “I’m really proud of you and always have been!” I love this! A sentence or two later he writes, “We’re not cooking as much with you gone.” Seriously! Always makes me laugh and dries my tears from the heartfelt words read earlier in the letter.

Chief wrote me a beautiful letter in 1979, when my father died. We had only met one time and talked in a job interview, yet he was moved enough to express himself with sympathy during this time in my life. My father had died a week after my job interview with Chief. The last sentence in Chief’s letter always moves me. “Just know my thoughts and feelings are with you in such an empty time, and that I care.” Chief loved writing letters, too. He corresponded with his students from the 1960s in Vermont and with his friends from all over the United States till his death.

I love writing letters. It’s therapeutic for me to express myself in a letter. Letters help us open a window into our personal life, let’s us share our life with someone who is dear to us. Letters can be enjoyed, read over and over, and become cherished tangible keepsakes. Putting pen to paper or fingers to a keyboard, writing letters helps keep friendships and family ties alive.