An Epistolary Post

I’m not much for writing letters anymore. These days I can scarcely summon the time and space to pen a thank-you note.

My grandmother and I used to write letters about snippets of our days to each other. She only lived about an hour away, but she was mainly housebound and also refused to telephone much because of her über frugality. She simply couldn’t tolerate paying for many long-distance phone calls. So we wrote down random things and put a stamp on it.

But nobody actually writes a letter anymore. It’s archaic. We just text. Or message on Facebook. Or send email. Letters are so vintage. Especially when written in a lovely cursive script, which no one does anymore either (except my MIL).

And yet, I’ve been composing letters in my mind all this week. I usually don’t get beyond a few lines, such is the state of my Swiss cheese brain in the summer.

This is the one that I mentally edited all yesterday evening:
“Dear School District (cc: Self-Governing Charter School),
We no longer live in a primarily agrarian society. I do not need my children to till the soil and glean the harvest during the summer months. Just thought you might like to know.

A mother who would be okay with evolving to a year-round schedule

Today I wrote this imaginary note to our pediatrician:
Dear Stickers Doctor,

Thank you for telling me today that my children are not “weird” or “different,” but that they are unique. Thank you also for telling me that when we come into the office, you adjust your diagnostic and treatment methods to fit our “uniqueness,” instead of expecting us to adjust to you. Thank you for  getting it.

With Gratitude,,
The mom who you called “patient” and “not a helicopter parent”

To the salesperson at the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale:
Dear Clarissa,

While I appreciate your input and respect your fashion-forward eye for trends, I cautiously submit that I do not feel that I can pull off a bootie. At least not currently. Thanks for thinking I’m hip enough to give these boot/shoe hybrids a go.

The customer sipping the 32 oz. icy beverage while trying on shoes

To my mom:
Dear Mom,
Thank you for giving birth to me in mid-July, which coincides nicely with the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale. It’s a lovely annual event at which I get to select my own birthday gift and feel somewhat on trend.

Much Love,
Middle Child

And finally to my son:
Dear Boy,

Thank you for being the brother who is the Pied Piper of all the other brothers. They love to be with you, and I love that you let them (even though being seen with little, unique brothers isn’t necessarily cool). You are a gem.

Hugs & Kisses,

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