Handwritten Letters and TV Withdrawls

I have a three-year-old cousin, Henry, who loves checking the mailbox. My aunt or uncle will go with him to check it sometimes more than once a day. Yesterday morning I got to thinking about his love for mail, and how people rarely get "fun" mail anymore. When my husband or I check the mail we  ask the other one, "did we get anything?"; we don't mean literally, because there's always something, but it's usually a pile of Burger King coupons and a free newspaper. What we're really asking is, "did we get something from someone we know?".

Several times, in the almost seven years of our marriage, my husband and I have been apart from each other for weeks or months at a time, and a couple of those times we decided to write letters instead of e-mails. We now have a shoebox full of letters that I'm sure our grandchildren will find either romantic, or hilarious some day.

There is something special about a letter, but people rarely send them anymore. We still send and receive birthday cards, or thank you cards in the mail, but not a letter. We send an e-mail, or a text, or we call on FaceTime or Skype, but it's all electronic. Don't get me wrong, as someone who has lived away from family, I greatly appreciate video calls, but I can't keep them in a shoebox for my kids or grandkids to hold in their hands 30 or 40 years from now.

With my new free time, I've decided to write a letter a week. Hopefully this isn't too lofty a goal that I will end up disappointing myself, but once a month is so far apart I might forget, and once a day is just ridiculous. I don't think I know enough people to write that many letters. Since it was Henry who inspired me, I'm going to send my first letter to him.

In other news, last night was the first night that I really wished I could watch TV. My daughter and I were both feeling under the weather, and I couldn't sleep. Between being poised to hear her if she needed me, and the horrible tickly and scratchy feeling in my own throat, sleep was a mere fantasy to me. All I wanted to do was curl up on the couch and watch a few episodes until I passed out. Instead I  stared at the baby monitor until I knew my daughter was asleep, and ate throat lozenges like they were my last meal.