The only fun part about moving is the rediscovery of things lost. This seems especially true when your movement is toward home. Little trinkets everywhere remind me of good things I had left behind and am going back to reclaim. Nothing more than this postcard I found fallen behind my desk. My dad had found it for me on eBay, a card sent from Banning the year after my house was built, the house my dad and I worked on together.
I have found myself thinking a lot about mail lately, about the things we write in letters. Matthew Specktor wrote a lovely reverie on this same thing after sending out a letter through the Letters in the Mail subscription at The Rumpus. I have a subscription. I read his letter and you might recognize a few details about those who wrote him back.
I had forgotten what it was like to write words meant for only one person. There are things I would say to you over a beer that I would never put online. There are things in a letter that can be sculpted and explored in a way conversation cannot. A letter bears water, woven with small secrets and sealed with a single reader’s imagined reactions. A missive is a sturdy enough vessel to carry a moment long enough to become artifact.
I am here in this resful place and am sure enjoying a quiet rest. Seems good to know where a fellow will be the next day. Have been going to bed at nine o’clock or before ever since I have been here. that is better than you do I am sure. THis climate is the best ever. You always know that the next day will be just like today.
I hope Jimmy convinced Ruth to come live with him in Banning. I for one am looking forward to living there again… and going to bed at 9 o’clock.