I have saved a lot of old crap. Like most people I suppose have saved from the earlier part of their lives. Always with the intent of “doing something” with that letter, that picture, that article, that thing.

A few months ago I found a bag of that kind of stuff in my armoire crammed in the back of a bunch of other memorabilia. My diplomas and certificates and other ATTAboys are stuffed into the same place near socks and pajamas. My sister refers to these as little treasures.

In this particular bag left over from Waldenbooks (remember them?) I found a collection of old letters written by Cheryl to me in high school. These are not love letters. She is merely writing to tell me about her day. In the example I show here she has continued her letter on the next day, so, it is two letters.

Six pages of handwritten conversation as though I was there or at least on the telephone with her show several concepts of interest. The first thing to note is that her cursive when she was seventeen is written as though it is on lined paper even though there are no guidelines on the stationary. The second thing I noticed as I re-read her note was how she must have taken to heart practicing her craft in grade school and high school. The letter is dated and located and each page is numbered so the reader is not confused.

Not as much emphasis is placed on American standard cursive as it once was when we were children. Many of the MEME-ers on Meta believe this is appalling. I think it merely shows progress in education.

These days Parkinson has stolen her cursive from her as well as other things. Her ability to think in a straight line is gone. Cursive writing is just another item greatly diminished in our new life. And handwritten notes seem to be a thing of the past as we leap into the SMS message days. I have been chided by others for not responding to text messages rapidly. I notice that my smartphone service does not always provide a little chirp when a message appears and I am okay with that.

That last thought sent off to contemplate the idea that voice phone calls except from Mumbai are mostly none existent.

Carpe Diem.