Letters from Lambs

When I was in Junior High School, I remember the cool thing was passing notes between classes. The notes would inevitably be written during a class that bored you to tears, and you decided to take the time and get caught up with your friends. Whether the note detailed your plans for after school, or the latest drama from your first of many devastating break-ups; it was always written in long hand on notebook paper and intricately folded and passed between classes. This trend continued into high school. Once I reached college and at the height of the technological boom, note passing quickly became replaced with email exchange and instant messaging. Years after finishing college, and even with a recent masters degree under my belt, I am continuing to see that even email and instant messaging are becoming archaic forms of communication; replaced with text messaging and personalized websites like facespace and sit-on-my-face. I can’t help but take a moment and wonder – whatever happened to writing a letter, placing a stamp on it, and mailing it to the person? Has technology really become so advanced that we don’t need this form of communication any more, or have we become so obsessed with doing things as quickly as possible, in order to move on to the next thing that we’ve forgotten how to take a few minutes from our busy day and compose a letter?

I’m not sure when it began, but I’d guess it started shortly after I arrived at college my freshman year. I began to receive letters from my Grandma, who I affectionately refer to as LAMBS. Seems like an odd nickname for a grandmother, until you find out that her initials actually spell out L-A-M-B-S, and that her license plate is LAMBS 2. During the first few years of my college career, I would receive letters from LAMBS, and in all honesty – I never really appreciated them at the time. It was simply another piece of mail that served as a reminder that I should call my grandmother – whom I hadn’t spoken with since the last major holiday. The correspondence would usually be something as simple as letting me know what was happening with her; any recent trips she’d taken; who she ran into at the bizarre at St. Joe’s; or my personal favorite, who’s recently died. It wasn’t until I finally left college, and started living in the “real world,” that I finally began to appreciate the letters and notes that she would mail to me. Her letters were something simple that reminded me that she loves me and was thinking about me.

During my ambiguous years of life post-college and pre-graduate school, I began to reply to LAMBS’ letters. I was not nearly as dedicated as she was, but I made it a point to try and send a letter out at least monthly – regardless if I’d seen or spoken with her in that time. Like my days of writing notes in high school, I wrote my notes long hand on notebook paper. That’s right, in the new millennia I used archaic things like paper, a pen, and a stamp. After I began doing it, I realized how cathartic this process was, and thus I began to journal as well. With journaling, I began to explore myself deeper – thoughts, feelings, emotions, rational, irrational, mundane or profound. I started to write down whatever was on my mind that seemed to be bothering me – and now I love it!

I know it sounds tripe and a bit corny, but I love sending postcards when I travel. I remember driving across the country with my brother when he moved to Los Angeles, California. My family and friends all got random postcards from places like Oklahoma, or the Texas panhandle. We would buy them in bulk when we’d stop to gas up early in the day, and mail them out when we stopped for lodging in the evening. This trend continues as I live in Thailand. I have been sending out postcards to friends and family. Though I’m not traveling, who doesn’t like receiving a postcard from Lampang, Thailand?

Being on the other side of the world has revived my love for writing. I continue to journal online, and I also stay dedicated to my personal journal. However, what I’ve truly learned to appreciate while living far from my family and friends and everything else that is familiar – postal mail. Since being here, I have received weekly letters from LAMBS, and staying true to my original commitment, I have continued to write to LAMBS on a weekly basis – usually Sundays. I have also started to write more letters to my friends and family members back home. Additionally, I have also received a few parcels from both my mom, my brother, and a very dear friend, which included among other things, a quick note reminding me that I was on their mind and that they loved me.

Today, I received another such parcel, only this time – it was an entire shoebox filled with handwritten letters from former students and colleagues back in Chicago. I am connected with most of these people on facespace, so the fact that they took the time to write letters – well, this was one of the most touching gestures I could have ever received. This simple act reminded me how truly blessed I am, and how lucky I’ve been to share in the lives of all these different people. I was actually speechless when I opened the box to discover the abundant amount of notes – it’s like I was back in Junior High School. In true form, I immediately drafted a note in response.

I’m not sure where my dedication to postal mail comes from. Is it genetic, and simply passed down from LAMBS? Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I hate to see the English language, or any language for that matter, boil down to the point of text messaging, instant messaging, and email communication. Whatever happened to words like “dearest” and “thou?” Have these beautifully written words really become replaced with “C U @ 7 ;)” or “R U Going?” Maybe I was simply born about 100 years too late, and I really belong in a simpler time when letter writing was your only option for communicating with people. Whatever happened to the days of knowing your postman by name? Maybe I’m just a simple Midwestern boy who will always be swooned by a love letter verse a fancy gift – though the gift is always appreciated. Whatever happened to writing love letters – is text messaging the beginning of the end of romance? Well, this is one individual who promises to continue to take the time out of his day to write letters and postcards to his family and friends – even if it is only LAMBS who replies. That’ll be enough to keep me writing.