Sentimental things...

Every so often, my family gathers around a tattered box of letters that my sister Dina keeps safe up in the attic and only brings down when my brothers and sister are in town. There are five of us you see, and we have all lived apart in different countries. At least we now live in the same region, but there was a time, when we were scattered across NY, Jordan, Dubai, and England. WE - the global folk - try to connect as often as work and life allows. And when we are in Jordan, we gather at my sister’s house.
On a typical afternoon, you can find us in the garden, swinging under the leafy tree, sipping on tea with fresh mint leaves, or the “good” coffee as my sister calls her fancier Austrian coffee bean. Sometimes, when we are in a sentimental mood, my sister brings down the old box of letters that we used to mail each other and we read them out loud and laugh – the kind of laugh that comes from the belly.
These are old relics from that magical age called childhood. They are hand written letters that are falling apart from being loved up, read and re-read. We love the past in all its glory. Part of the past is not just the narrative of the tales, but it’s in the hand written style and font, the drawings, the decorations of hearts and arrows…it’s really the flavour and scent of a more innocent and simpler time.
It feels good to look back and reminisce on stories of by gone times. The days when I used to write letters to my family right before lights out in boarding school; when my brother would write letters from his summer camp; my sister would send post cards from her adventures…and it’s the envelope that is also interesting, the stamp on it, the date, the address…the whole affair is an invitation to pause and smile. Letters are just so special because they are personal.
Being me, it got me thinking about emails and how we communicate nowadays. Email is fantastic, so I won’t even dare knock it. All I’m saying is that I miss the act of writing letters and receiving them. I even miss the post man – what happened to post-men? Has anyone seen one lately? There is something utterly romantic about opening a letter that you know crossed oceans and continents and exchanged a million hands just to get to YOU. Someone out there took the time out to sit down, THINK, and tell you something weighty and important. You waited and waited…remember waiting? I miss waiting. Everything is so instant now (thank god, because I’m impatient – I never said I was consistent in my thoughts so don’t go all up in my pants…! I am allowed to wants two things!) …so I love emailing, and just wish people continued writing letters. Why must we give up one thing to do another? I think letters are grand, and I would like to go and buy some nice paper and write a letter to someone special.

Aren’t letters grand!