Not my post office!

I have three sisters and we keep in touch and connect in many ways.  We have the usual electronics exercised daily.  Where I live the weather can put the cells and PCs out of business in a second leaving only my old faithful corded phone operating (cordless go out when the power does of course).  And the sound is better on the land line, a plus as the hearing of our aging family begins to deteriorate.  But I digress.

We four sisters give the post office regular exercise and I have one cousin who writes too.  This is in spite of texts and emails,  I used to be a prolific letter writer. Our parents got us started.  My father often traveled overseas in his work and wrote every week or more, letters to Mom and letters to each of us, separately, each in its own envelope.  My mother wrote to our grandparents frequently.  She helped us write back to Dad and all as well as making sure we wrote timely thank you letters.  Somewhere I have the telegram Dad sent to his parents announcing I'd been born, an early electronic letter?

I shudder when I hear the post office might go the way of the Dodo bird.  Our mail now goes to Spokane 300 miles away for sorting in and out.  Nearly every week I receive a card or letter from my sisters, or even a small package.  We send books, news clippings, soap, windup toys and old photos, yes, I know you can do that electronically.  I have just started scanning the pictures to share out of an old album my sister Pam brought me when I visited. I have a CD of home movies from another sister's ex-husband with wonderful, funny movies of our kids as babies and all of us young and healthy.  It came in the mail.

After I post this I will be writing to Pam (who just visited me) on the new note cards I recently bought.  I know she will like it as I do when I get her notes with cat and bunny stickers all over them.  She is much into cat and rabbit rescue and I know its her note as soon as I touch it, just as I know most books in mail come from Susan.  I like the touch and feel of that.  A letter in the hand.  Same with books. I think that's why I've never quite got on with e-books.  I love the feel of the paper, especially ones with deckle edges and reading what type face it was printed in.  I love seeing my sisters hand writing, knowing they touched this missive, chose this note or paper.  It touches me in a way email can't which is probably why I still have a scrap of paper my Dad wrote on.  It has instructions he noted for setting the stations on a mini-boombox I gave him after his little old radio refused to broadcast any longer.  It doesn't matter what he wrote, just that it's his handwriting, just like those old letters, and when I pick it up I connect with something precious to me.