Letters… from Long Ago

Love letters from long ago. Handwritten. Without spell check. A heart’s words dashed off simply on plain paper. In the envelope, a stamp and on its way. No way to pull it back—no retrieve and delete.

We wrote them and waited.

When received, we read and re-read them.

We saved them.

If we’re fortunate… even though it’s been years… decades… we find them again.

And when/if you do… they are a picture of young love when everything was fresh. New. And how its taste, sound and color—the romance—affected everything. She/He was your world… and all you wanted was to be together.

Love Letters Long Ago... by Dennis LoweryClearing out folders in my office I found them with documents and personal correspondence. I read them and felt that tingle; damn near like when I first received it 35 years ago. My eyes misted a bit lost in the memory and Alpha looked at me, “Dad?” [Note: I have four daughters, the two youngest are twins that I refer to as ‘Alpha’ and ‘Beta’ in my writing.]

I handed her the letter I had in my hand and smiled. She and Beta read it and then looked at each other in that way that twins do. “Take that to your mother,” I told them. A few minutes later they came back grinning. “Mom says it’s mushy…”

I took the letter from Beta and went to find my wife. She was in the garage fiddling with something in her car. “What’s wrong with mushy?” I came around the open door leaned in and put my arms around her for a kiss. I felt the return kiss turn into a grin as she looked over my shoulder. From the laundry room door, where Alpha and Beta stood watching us, I heard, “Wuv… twu wuv…”

Never let the realist kill the romantic in you. I pity the realist in me if it even tries. My romantic side will kick its ass. The realist helps you live life, but the romantic creates a life worthwhile.

PLEASE READ: This--below--is where intelligent comments are exchanged and threads of meaningful and thought-provoking discussion can take place. Some of my favorite stories I've written started with such exchanges and through them I've met some truly wonderful people. This comment section is a place where it's almost old-school in that responses--if one is needed--may not be immediate but will come. Kind of like postal mail correspondence, an easier pace that allows thoughtfulness and not knee-jerk fingers flying over keyboard replies, or something that comes out as top of mind, a stream of conscious superficiality. I hope to hear from and interact with you on anything I've written that sparks a thought or urge to comment.

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