Write. Not text a hello or send a typed message through email or social media, I write. Pen to paper, my chicken scratch, slacking cursive penmanship, my words, my personal touch to connecting with people I love. I take the time to sit down, whether it be in a lobby, parking lot, a work table or my dining room table, I take the time to jot down the current happenings in my family's life.
One of the absolute, most impersonal pieces of correspondence I've seen lately was given to a co-worker of mine. She was invited to attend a Dean's List luncheon in celebration of her scholarly accomplishments. The invitation was sent to her phone. By a mass text. Upon reading the text (which was posted on social media) I felt a slight disappointment in the process of acknowledging the student's accomplishments. Where was the official letter with the letterhead and embossed stamp? With the signature (even if it is stamped) of the dean him or herself? There was nothing personal about inviting this student, a real in the flesh human being to a dinner. Is there any connection at all or is it lost forever? I suppose my age is a tell all preferring to use ink and voice rather than thumbs. I'd want the paper. I'd want that penned signature (real or not). I'd appreciate the effort.
As I finish typing this post, I will meander to the table and pull out my yellow paisley note cards and write my September letters to both of my grandmothers. Will you do the same? Or will you rely on your thumbs being connected to a device and possibly miss out on actually connecting? Grab that pen and put it to paper. Surprise someone with a letter and connect.