Long ago, there was a form of communication called writing letters. Perhaps you’ve heard of it. Perhaps you’ve even done it. Perhaps you should do it again.

Writing a letter will not produce immediate gratification or an instant response. It is not a post meant to be shared, rated with an up or down thumb or a mindless stream of emoticons. Letter writing is the most intimate form of communication and sadly, a dying art.

Nothing makes my heart sing like receiving a letter! It doesn’t matter if it’s penned on embossed cotton stationery or scrawled on a dirty dinner napkin. It doesn’t have to be grammatically correct, nor exemplify perfect spelling. When I see a hand-written envelope amongst bills and junk mail, it is always the bright spot in my day.

I have a dear friend who used to live across the street. Despite moving several thousand miles away, we remain close and write letters with regularity.

Sometimes, our letters are uplifting missives. Other times, they are expletive riddled dispatches as we share life’s conundrums with vociferous protest. We often solve the maladies of the world with violent tongue-in-cheek solutions that if acted upon, would surely land us both in the women’s correctional facility.

You cannot begin to know a person intimately through social media, texting or e-mail. In our tech savvy world, it would be difficult to imagine receiving messages that give pause over thoughtful, beautifully written prose.

Though texting is forgettable, letters are something tangible—something you can hold in your hand. I squirrel away letters and read them when I’m missing friends or loved ones. I save them for the thrill of tender moments or deep connections to those who are no longer with us.

Some have exquisite penmanship. Others have penmanship that resemble hieroglyphics carved on a cave wall—cryptic messages that would take a trained expert to decipher. Yet despite an undying fear of crappy handwriting, there is nothing like an old school letter to send my heart aflutter!

I tend to type a long letter and hand-write shorter, more personal notes. I am convinced that writing letters can bring people closer and link generations through the written word.

Conversely, I find fill-in-the-blank form letters and pre-written thank you notes to Grandma offensive. Besides being impersonal and thoughtless, these are worse than no letter at all. To add to my angst, many educators have ceased teaching kids to write in cursive. This means they will also not be able to read cursive and I find that to be particularly insulting. After all, handwriting saved me.

I did not do well in school and my grades plummeted after my mother passed away. Several years later in 7^th grade, every student in my class received a certificate of achievement for academics—except me.

Settle down, folks. This was before everyone received a prize simply for showing up—when integrity was a requirement, rules were followed and respect was earned.

I could not solve a math equation to save my soul. I couldn’t tell a proton or electron from a neutron. I was mildly dyslexic and a habitual daydreamer. As well, my handwriting inexplicably slanted in the wrong direction. My exasperated teacher took me aside and asked if there was anything I could do right. I shrugged.

Mrs. T was a tough old broad who told me I was dumb as dirt and made me cry with regularity. Though to her credit, she said that I needed to find something that I could do well and build on that. When I couldn’t come up with anything, she decided to help me salvage my handwriting.

For weeks, I stayed in Mrs. T’s classroom during lunch and recess while I relearned to write in cursive. She yelled. I cried. Though her methods were draconian, she was determined to help me achieve this one small goal.

While there are many things that I don’t do well, I still receive compliments for my handwriting. Mrs. T pushed me to write letters and keep a journal and I loved it! I began writing letters with an inexhaustible urgency.

Then, along came technology…

I am guilty of constantly checking my phone and texting throughout the day. But texting is lost in a fragmented thread of communication. By staying so connected through electronics, we have become disconnected from interpersonal relationships. More importantly, we have lost the ability to be present for one another during this shit-storm called life.

Letters are the mother of all personal touches. So put down your phone. Push away from the computer. Stop whatever you’re doing and take a moment to write a letter. It doesn’t have to be long. You will make someone’s day, and you just might receive a reply that will give you greater joy than any emoji or lol could ever offer.