Love in Pale Pink Post-It

My grandmother, Charlene Turner, is a wonderful writer. Her skill, creativity, and sly humor can be seen in her senior yearbook (she was the typist for the Marrowbone High School annual, but she also penned several of the articles - including her Salutatorian message - go Mama) as well as in the handwritten notes she regularly mails to her grandchildren now, some sixty years later. Sure, I appreciate the coupons for dog treats and the "spending money" with which she includes to personalize mine, but it is her words, and the genuine love that inspires them, that remind me how lucky I am.

One of the things I adore most about Mama's notes is that they are typically a discussion of the everyday. She tells me about going to get her hair cut at Phyllis' or about my uncle coming in for a visit or the work she did in her yard that week. Mama isn't saving the world in her letters or in the post-it notes she includes with every gift given (at Christmas, she often wraps even small things individually and includes a post-it about how she just couldn't pass up such a good deal or recommendations for what we should use it for or wear it with). But what Mama is doing in these seemingly mundane gestures is confirming those qualities that anyone who has ever met her must associate: she is unequivocally thoughtful, kind without motive, a willing participant in Turner foolishness, and just simply lovely.

An example:
I received an Applejack Art Partners card from Mama a few weeks ago (proceeds to the Humane Society): There are five dogs on the front, 2 Dalmatians in a red wagon, one black and brown beagle, and two light brown retrievers, one with shoe in mouth. She had taken a pen and written "Willie" on the beagle (Willie's coloring matches this pup almost exactly), "Lucy" on one of the light brown dogs whose sweet face does remind my of Lucy's, and "Tucker" (the name of my parents' Yorkie-poo) on the one with the shoe in mouth (Tucker likes to take Jackie's flip flops - primarily to provoke the Jackie and Tucker really loud, clapping hands chase game). On the two in the wagon, Mama had written "friends." The inside message read: "Hon, a little gas money. Love, Mama"

This card didn't take all day to write, nor did it relay some profound message. It simply made me happy. And this is one of the many reasons that a handwritten note is so special. It reflects an understanding and appreciation of the other person; it is not a facebook blurb that often is said to show one's own humor or opinion; it is not an email that has been written, deleted, rewritten, saved, and then finally sent; it is not a "narcissistic and self-serving" blog entry of one's musings and activities (oh, the irony). Handwritten notes instead seem to be the most heartfelt, the most honest, the most unassuming means of communication. Mama is not writing with ulterior motive or to provoke a "thank you"; Mama is writing because she loves her grandchildren. The real beauty in this though, is that without intention, she does inspire a sense of gratefulness. I love reaching into my mailbox and seeing her handwriting on a typically brightly-colored envelope (that is sometimes sealed with a cute sticker). I enjoy hearing about the goings-on in Waterview, Marrowbone, and Burkesville. I am thankful for the sense of home, and place, and belonging that is reflected in these letters.

About a year ago I found a book on sale at Joseph Beth that you all might want to check out: The Art of the Handwritten Note: A Guide to Reclaiming Civilized Communication by Margaret Shepard.
Here is an excerpt from the introduction.
"But the handwritten note has an intrinsic value beyond its rarity. It's not just an antiquarian curiosity, it's an extremely useful tool. It upgrades a wide variety of messages, transforming "oops" into "Please accept my apology," and "Got the money" into "Thank you for your generosity." Ink on paper is still the classiest way to express the thoughts that really matter, on the occasions that really count. And sometimes it is the only way; your words will carry sympathy and gratitude with a special kind of sincerity when your reader sees them on paper in your writing.
...
Corresponding on paper lets you elevate the simple pleasure into an art form. And art has always survived technology. A handwritten note is like dining by candlelight instead of flicking on the lights, like making a gift instead of ordering a product, like taking a walk instead of driving. Handwritten notes will add a lot to your life. You can still use the telephone or the Web for the daily chores of staying in touch, but for the words that matter, it's courteous, classy, caring, and civilized to pick up a pen."

Referencing the blog entry a few days ago, I don't want to be a snob and act like I sit around writing letters to everyone I need to contact. Emailing is useful and facebook is fun. I do think, however, that I should hold higher expectations for myself; I should want those who I care about to feel the way I feel when I reach into PO Box 1021 and see Charlene Turner's writing. Maybe on this rather dreary Sunday, we could all put a hand-written post-it note message on someone's computer screen, draw a picture for someone's refrigerator, or take the time to write a letter (after the UK game of course) to someone we love.

* I would love to hear bits and pieces from your own favorite notes or letters. I think it would bring a lot of joy to the thousands of people reading.*