Voices From the Past

A few weeks ago, during our mini-family reunion in Ohio, my sister brought me a large bag full of old photographs and assorted documents that our mother had saved over the years. Knowing that I'm the family history buff, she thought that I'd be more interested in the things than anyone else. And I was.

I already posted one of the treasures from the bag - in my post titled "Five Generations" earlier this month, I put up a photo of my very young and geeky self with my oldest son (then only a few months old), my father (who looks pretty much like a younger version of the present-day Bilbo, and my grandmother, who was then into her 80's. Grandma has long since passed away, but she lives on in that photo taken on a summer day nearly 30 years ago.

Also in the bag were bundles of letters I had written to my family over the years, letters which documented my adventures and the development of my own family as we lived in Louisiana, Germany, and Virginia. They include my commentary on the newsworthy events of the day (including the latest political jokes and cartons) and the trials and tribulations of raising a family in a military setting.

I can enjoy reading those letters now and recalling the events I described over the decades. I enjoy writing letters, although I don't have as much time for it as I used to; I don't believe in writing little "how-are-you-I'm-fine-see-you-soon" notes, but multi-page letters brimming with the details of life. My friends used to tell me how much they enjoyed my letters, and how entertaining they were...sadly nowadays, my letter-writing is pretty much confined to the year-end summaries I send to selected friends with their Christmas card, each letter carefully written from a master copy so that each person hears about the things in which he or she is most interested. The standard one-size-fits-all, mass-copied Christmas letter just won't do in this family.

But my larger thought for today is that few people write letters any more. We live in a fast-paced world in which instant messaging, e-mail, and phone calls have replaced the joy of opening the mailbox and finding a fat envelope with our name on it, brimming with personal details meant just for us, and bringing us for a few minutes into the lives and hearts of our friends. I regret not writing more and better letters now, and I use the same shopworn excuses we all do (no time, postage is expensive, I can't write, no one cares, etc, etc)...but I know in my heart that my brothers and sister, my sons and daughter and grandchildren, and all my friends would love to get that envelope in the mail.

And what of my grandchildren when they grow up? How will they know about Grandpa Bilbo and the events that shaped him into the man he was? Will they get their knowledge of the history of their family, and how it fits into the larger history of the nation and the world, from schoolbooks, encyclopedias, and Wikipedia, or will they also have the first-hand view of those events from the observations of their grandfather who lived through many of them?

Every year I tell myself I'm going to start writing letters again, and every year I don't do it. Maybe it's time to stop making excuses and start recording history in other than my blog. Not everyone cares about everything...but that's why you write lots of letters: so that everyone gets not just the information they need, but the warm knowledge that the letter was written just for them by someone who cared enough about them to spend the time.

Have a good day. Write a letter to someone you love, or a friend you haven't seen for a while. You'll both be glad you did.

More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo