Love Letters
- Katherine Dudley Hoehn
- 3 days ago
- 2 min read
On this eve of Valentine's Day, I am feeling a little guilty that I didn't send out my usual cards to friends. Life got in the way this year. The only cards I sent were to my five grandchildren.
It's rare to receive a handwritten letter anymore. Emails and texts, while impersonal, are just too easy to send, ignore, and move on from. They don’t have the same impact or carry the devotion of a handwritten letter.
Love letters aren’t just romantic things, but ones that express caring and acknowledge others’ importance to us. As a recipient, I appreciate that someone made the effort to share with me in a very personal way. We have so many communication choices, but a handwritten note is top of the charts for me.
I have hundreds of family letters, including several dating back to the 1700’s. They are all love letters of a sort and usually end with “Love” or “Devotedly.” Some are more expressive than others and a few draw out memories of events past with hints of nostalgia. They are a treasure trove of family history and I am fortunate that they were preserved.
My grandchildren receive letters from me on their birthdays and at Christmas, reminding them why I love them so much. My son once said that the notes they received were their best Christmas gifts.
During the height of Covid-19, when we all became shut-ins, I wrote 100 letters to friends and relatives, many of whom I had neglected for some time. Sitting on my sunny porch, I would write for several hours every day and reached out to college friends, former neighbors, work colleagues, and a few stray relatives. Based on the notes I received in return, the recipients felt the love I attempted to convey.
Just recently one of my dearest friends passed away in a tragic accident, which I wrote about in my last blog. Some days before, I’d set aside the Christmas card I hadn’t yet written for her, figuring it was too late (mid-January). I will always regret that I did not take that few minutes to post her a love note, as it would have been the last correspondence she received from me.
It only takes a few minutes to write a letter, and it can mean so much to the person you are writing to. Sometimes it is easier to express feelings in writing or simply honor the other person by recalling a special time together or a memory you share. Receiving a letter is an honor and I consider it an honor to write one, too.
As I've writen about may times before, Dad was my teacher in letter-writing. He learned from his Aunt Katherine, who helped raise him after his mother died, and for whom I am named. In a note to Katherine and his stepmother, Alice, Dad wrote this from his Army post at the 303rd Station Hospital near London, England, on February 14, 1944. I think it supports my position that letters are love statements:
