Unexpected Love Letters

It is not a requirement that love letters come from a romantic interest. While in the midst of “KonMari-ing” my closet, I’ve come across so many different notes from friends and family.  Things that meant so much to me, at the time, that they were shoved in a box to eventually be found while cleaning my closet, 20 years later.  I found little notes and drawings from my young nieces and nephews that still bring a smile to my face.  My niece, now 26, asked, “Why do you still have that?”

Another group of letters came from a very special group of women; members of my chorus and motherly figures to me, at that time.  At the lowest point in my career, while in my late 20’s to early 30’s, I received unexpected help from these women.  My business was going poorly, I was overworked, dealing with staff crises, in debt over my ears, trying to stay afloat and these women offered to give of their time to help me.  I remember being stunned that they would be willing to do this.  One responded that her daughter was about my age.  If her daughter had needed help, she hoped that someone would willingly help her. There were notes of encouragement, notes of friendship, and in one case, an anonymous donation.  I’ve always been a packrat, but these notes are staying in my possession.  They bring me joy; reminders of how those personal gestures uplifted me during the darkest era of my lifetime.

Last week, I received a letter.  Yes, a real-life, letter, written in ink, on a full page of actual stationery.  Small print covered front and back.  It was delivered to my workplace from a high-school friend that I have not seen, personally, in over 30 years.  It was filled with beautiful words about what I had meant to her, all those years ago.  It filled my heart with joy.

For some, writing letters, or thank you notes, comes easily.  Up until Kon-Mari, I still owned some of the same, blank, notecards I’d had since the 1980’s.  Those have now been replaced.  A “Like” on Facebook, or even an email, is not satisfactory.  I’m determined to follow my friend’s lead and begin thanking those that have made a difference in my life.  First up, after thanking my friend for the inspiration, are those women who came to my aid nearly 20 years ago.  After that, I suspect that I will be very busy sending letters.  Writer’s cramp is something I’ve not experienced for a while now. I expect I’ll smile a bit when I feel my first pain.


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