The Magic of Mail

A person has to work at being bored if he lives in a digital age.  Text-messaging, e-mail, Ipads, Ipods, Smartphones, Droids, etc, keep us numb with constant stimulation and entertainment.  Anyone and everyone is easily accessible, comfortably distant, never alone, yet lonely. Text messages have created the tyranny of the urgent by keeping us constantly connected.

Even so, I believe in snail-mail and its magical power. For over 500 years, hand-delivered, tangible mail has delighted and overwhelmed people more than the mysterious world of messaging ever will.

Admit it; the inexplicable joy or possibility of a single envelope is powerful. I am not talking about a credit card application or a car insurance quote; I am talking about real mail. For that reason, December is my favorite mail-month of the year.  Each year, I send out around 100 cards, and each day in December, there are usually two or three Christmas cards in the box in return.

The best mail, however, is unexpected - a random "thinking of you" card from a friend or an unanticipated check is a satisfying surprise. For example, last week, I received two random surprises. First, my mom sent me a lovely thank-you letter, and later, a friend sent me a heartfelt card. . .along with a box of homemade chocolate chip cookies.

This type of mail is real, permanent, and touchable. If I want to, I can open it, read it, and close fifty times now, later, and next week. And in fact, I do. I have a whole nightstand full of cards and letters that remind me of special times, people, and occasions.

As much fun as receiving mail is, sending it is equally satisfying. My husband works for a printing company, so I have access to as many greeting cards as I want; all I have to do is provide the stamps. I send birthday cards, sympathy cards, thank-you cards, and cards for no reason. I love the joy that these cards bring to other people; many times, I have been told "Your card made my day." There is no greater satisfaction than that. Often, when I affix the stamp and put a card in the mailbox, I imagine the receiver's face and reaction when s/he opens the card. It's not because I think I am such a great person for sending it; it's because s/he will know that for that moment, on that particular day, someone - me - was thinking of him/her. And really, that's what we all crave - knowing that we matter.

A handwritten note bespeaks an intimacy that any electronic medium cannot possibly recreate. The handwriting alone is an inexplicable treasure to me, particularly if the sender is no longer here. Handwriting is an affirmation of existence, rooting one in a time and significance that extends long after the message. Truly, a handwritten note closes the gap between humans faster and stronger than any text-message ever could.

I believe in snail-mail and its magical power.