Paper

Paper
This is an interesting word for today. My former neighbour emailed me on Tuesday to wish me a Happy Birthday since they were going away later that afternoon. She told me to check my mailbox because she knows I don’t check it everyday. My birthday and Christmas are the only times that I get mail that isn’t a bank statement or junk mail.
But even that is going by the way side because everything is electronic nowadays. Bell even charges you for paper statements. The bank charges you for a passbook. A lady that lived down the street from me didn’t have a computer. Mom kept statements for her records so she would pay the fee. When I go to the bank to withdraw money I don’t get a receipt. I figure I will drop it in the bottom of my purse and eventually it will be garbage anyway.
Yesterday when I went to the bakery down the street from me I paid with debit because I rarely carry cash anymore. I can remember when debit first came out you weren’t allowed to use it for a transaction less than $5. Now everybody buys coffee with debit.
But there is something sentimental about paper though. My Mom always reread Christmas cards after Christmas. My Dads cousin loved getting Moms Christmas letter. My friend draws a picture in a card. It’s so special. The fact that my Mom was a letter writer is why I have a connection to this friend. Most of our correspondence was by email but they were long emails and there were letters mixed in too.
It’s one of the things that I had a hard time letting go of when I moved. I had boxes of letters, wedding invitations, baby shower invitations, thank you cards. I kept the last Father’s Day card I gave to Dad. A birthday card from Janet. My Dad rarely had the need to write anything but he had a garden book where he sketched out his plan. I kept that. It’s such a personal thing. We won’t have that anymore though because very few people I know write letters anymore.
Who doesn’t love receiving a letter in the mail. Somebody went to the store to pick out a card specific for you.

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