Dear Comrades,
Recently, there has been a lot of debate
on the possible closing of several U.S. post offices. The closing of
post offices in my mind is closely linked to the dying art of letter
writing. And while my rational mind understands that in the natural
evolution of things the Internet will eventually lead to the death of
the handwritten letter, on an emotional level, I still find it hard to
accept.
In today’s world, when the old order constantly keeps
changing to make way for new, we have to be able to accept this rapid
change and evolve with it in order to fit in. And yet, one of those
things that I am unable to let go off is the dying practice of letter
writing. In my opinion, it is a tragedy of modern times that we no
longer write letters to each other.
Both of my parents passed away many years ago but in their lifetime they wrote many letters to me.
My
father was a particularly eloquent and prolific writer and was able to
state things in a uniquely sweet way. Now that he is gone, I still read
and reread his letters and they bring me much comfort. Looking at his
handwriting, as he makes the words come alive, I almost forget that he
is no longer with us in this world. The handwritten word is indelible in
a way that the printed word cannot be.
It is not just comfort
that I derive but also guidance. My father’s letters give me guidance in
moments when I might stray from my path.
For instance, he once
wrote to me, and I quote, “There will be situations and pressures in
life that will tempt you to change but do not become an inferior human
being just for the sake of expediency. I love you immensely for who you
are.” Whenever I am on the verge of falling through the cracks, I read
these words and I am impelled to take the high road.
At other
times when I am depressed by life and some of its failures I read his
words from another letter in which he wrote, “I regard myself as
privileged to be your father. I am always proud of you.” And once again I
feel elevated and positive about life. I’m sure war widows, soldiers,
orphans, and immigrants living far away from their families would all
have old letters serving as mementos of their past life.
Some
people might argue that Facebook has made the need for letter writing
redundant as a way of keeping in touch with old friends. Indeed, how can
a lowly hand written letter compare with all the glossy photos and
instant messages and even videos that you can now send. But I can tell
you from personal experience, the value of those letters to me is worth a
thousand pictures. They bring my parents alive as nothing else can. I
almost feel like they are in the room when I read their powerful, loving
words.
I thought about how I could now bring back the epistolary
art instead of forever mourning its demise. The best way, I realized,
was to start writing letters myself. So that is my next big project. I’m
going to write to all my dear friends, and most of all, when my
children go away to college, I will write to them.
Maybe they
will appreciate it or maybe they won’t, but it will at least help me
leave a little piece of me behind for them to hold on to for those
moments when life throws out its curve balls and only a mother can
handle it.
In the meanwhile, all I can say is, long live the Postal Service!
Shamita Mahajan of Overland Park works
part-time at Oxford Middle School. She has two children, a son at
Overland Trail Middle School and a daughter at Blue Valley North. She
has lived in India, England, France and several U.S. cities, and has
traveled extensively.
http://www.kansascity.com/2012/04/08/3540470/save-the-us-postal-service-to.html
