My hands shakes lightly as I reach for the bag....tucked away in a closet and since forgotten. (You don't know what an occasional cleaning of the clutter yields.)
In front of me is a treasure trove of far greater value than money can buy. A treasure trove of emotions-good, bad, sad, joy...you name it, you can have it all.
Stacked neatly are the letters and the cards sent over the years...now, all I receive by mail are the bills.
The smell of old paper and ink....nostalgic. Most of the letters are written by mom...she wrote every other day, filling up the pages...words bound us though we were hundreds of miles apart.
Cards for all occasions, sent by friends, who long since are gone from my orbit and also love letters written by me to my then boyfriend, now my husband....filled with romance, innocence, longing that will be cherished life long.
Each letter a memory, a day that was, a page of my life, a moment lived and cherished today. The words written then, having the power to bring a smile, frown or a tear even today. Making me alive again. I run my fingers over them, feel them, clutch them to my heart. No gadget of today can replace these nor are they can be erased by the press of a button.
For - Mag 121


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