To Whom It May Concern:

In a time long ago, “the letter” required discipline and reflection that made my knees weak. To think I had one chance to get it right. To make the receiver join you in the carefully crafted world of words knowing it would journey for days before the round-trip home—if the experience was shared. Each day, a rush to the mailbox thinking, “This is the day!”

In 1967, the band, The Box Tops, hit number one with the song, “The Letter.” They mentioned a ticket for an airplane, and they must have been in a hurry because it was the last number-one hit song under two minutes in length. The title of the song is never sung. For the guy who didn’t have the time to take a fast train, the letter was it. Life changing. Enough said (or written).

No email or text could cause the impact of a letter. Do I open it at the mailbox? Do I rip it open or delicately break the seal? Letters unfold. They’ve been touched by hands before sent on their way. Eyes stare at the blank page to get it right. No abbreviations or memes or emojis. No slang, hashtag, selfie, or “celly” when you find the right words. You only get one chance…

And when you got that letter, the one that made you want to get a ticket for an airplane, you would keep it close, or private, or in your underwear drawer. Physically or not, that letter stayed with you, and you couldn’t help but reread it line by line, and double back to your favorite parts.

I said no abbreviations, but SASE was serious business if “the letter” meant business. No SASE offered, no reply! As a middle-schooler, I once did business with a sporting goods store and sent them a SASE along with cash for the item I wanted–with no prior contact. No one could get me to the store, so it was my only shot. The owner answered promptly and said the goods were on the way. “Thank you, Mr. Proprietor!” Wonder if anyone mails cash these days… Wonder if anyone would answer…

So, dear Letter, many thanks for the memories. For carefully chosen words and the suspense of patiently waiting for a reply. For imagination and what might be. For paper in hand and drying ink. For sealed with a kiss. For tear stains on personal stationery and goodbyes. I’ve been meaning to write. Sorry it took so long…

Photo credit: Towfiqu Barbhuiya (unsplash.com)