I have very few items in this category, but I have a box of old letters that mean a lot to me — mostly from my children, but also from friends and people who have written to say something I wrote made a difference.
So I've embarked on the long, slow job of digitising them all.
I began this morning, and I'll do a few every day until I have them all safely tucked away in an electronic folder.
I think I'll do the same with all correspondence from now on.
7 comments:
a very good idea.
Bean
I think your idea is good too. I am slowly taking things out of my house because it makes me happy to make space and say no to clutter. But the letters I've received from friends -- I'm not sure I could do what you're doing. I have mine in a big thick file, and like the thought of holding them to read them again when I want. I have a friend who has won many awards, and he and his wife have decided to take a picture of each one, and get rid of them to make space, in their home and in their minds. xoxo
I understand your reluctance. I think there will be some things I cannot bear to let go. For instance, I have two or three cards given to me by the girl who was my best friend at school when I was fourteen. I loved her so much. She was an artist of considerable talent, with lovely handwriting. These cards I've kept have watercolours she painted, and one has on the inside a primrose she pressed and glued in. She always used high quality watercolour paper. We lost touch some while after school finished — I do no where she is but I think she isn't keen to re-establish contact and I don't want to push. I can't imagine putting those cards on the fire any time soon.
But there are other things — just regular letter written in biro — where I want to still see the person's handwriting and remember the letter how it was, but I don't need the paper in my hand. Those I can digitise.
This makes me want to rush along and read all your retained private correspondence!
I have that in mind, Buzz. Among the other things I've kept are the letters sent from your teenage self to me. Do you remember you were at school at Robertsbridge during the time I was training for ordination? And on Thursdays when I travelled up to my course, you realised that if you rushed down to the station at the end of school, you could intercept the train on its way to London and give me a letter to read on the way. I have them still. Also some of the things you wrote when you were little — "I don't like the gravy but it's mixed up with my beans," etc. Let's have a look through one day.
I do remember! I didn't realise then how precious it would be. Those moments in time that form a history don't look very different from the throwaway moments when you're in them.
Yes!
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