The Love Letter

Earlier this year, I had a wonderful get-together with a couple of my girlfriends. They were visiting, so it was a vacation for them but a ‘stay-cation’ for me. The highlight of the event came on the last day, when one of them unearthed a love letter from the sent box of an old email account.

It had been written a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away …

Three sentences into the reading, I was on my knees on the floor holding my stomach because it hurt from laughing so hard. The author of the letter was beside me, rolling around, laughing uncontrollably and kicking her feet. My other friend, reading the letter, was gasping for air between sentences. By the last sentence she was practically incoherent; she was laughing so hard.

We laughed and laughed and laughed.

Oh, it was hilarious! It was also a beautiful piece of writing, full of all the urgency, passion and intense drama that only a completely infatuated teenage girl can produce.

The author wanted to delete the letter, as a symbolic way of closing a chapter on a long-term relationship that had ended. We encouraged her to keep it. The laughing had been quite cathartic.

In spite of our reaction, we did recognize that the letter was a beautiful piece of poetry. It was also a record of something real that she had felt at the time—an important part of the story of her life, so to speak. I think this kind of writing should be cherished. Look at how much joy and laughter that letter inspired years later.

I still remember, with delight, stumbling on some love letters that my father had stashed away in a binder. I was about 11 or 12 at the time. Woo-hoo! Can you say TMI? That was the era known as “fun questions time for the parents,” ha.

I have my own stash of sentimental writing. I keep a selection of letters and cards that I have received over the years from family and friends in a small leather case. Some of the authors of these notes are no longer with us. However, their words and memories of them, continue to entertain, advise, and encourage me.

Many few years back, as an aspiring scientist, I read an unforgettable account of Marie Curie’s life. I cannot emphasize enough how brilliant and incredibly persistent she was as a scientist. The thing that made her most real to me however, were the excerpts of her personal letters. They showed me that this was no super-human genius who was above it all. This was a woman who worked hard at her profession, loved passionately and suffered for both.

I don’t think we can or should save every tot and tiddle of our everyday scribbling. But, we should not be too quick to get rid of them either.

Especially precious are those writings that evoke strong emotions in us because they contain genuine pieces of ourselves or of other people important to us. When all that is left of us are some photos or a digital archive somewhere, it would be these writings that would reveal something of our true selves to those who come, long after we are gone.

I have one last piece of unsolicited advice for my friend - send that love letter to Adele, it could be a hit!