Write a Letter

Occasionally, grown people cower when asked to write. Some Memory Mining Seminar participants cringe or blanch. I advise that they recall a single pleasant event. They are to remember who else was there and write a letter to that person whether living or dead. They need to know that mailing the letter is optional. I know that something special will evolve.

One gentleman said, “I can say it, but I can’t write it down.”

“Okay. You’ve got a start. Say it to yourself and write those words down.”

The big smile on my face prompted a sweet grin on his.

Others cautiously commit words to paper only to scratch out, re-write, rip up drafts. They search for the exact words. I tell them, “Forget perfection. Gather your first thoughts. Write them quickly. Moving your pen will pull thoughts from your brain, emotions from your heart, memories from your soul.” Once participants give up the pressure for perfection, they feel free. They need not write great literature.

Then I give an example someone gave me permission to share:

Dear Jim,

Remember the party when my parents left town? I sure do. I can still see the look on your face when all those kids from the junior class showed up uninvited.

Charlie grabbed an orange from Mom’s crystal bowl and tossed it at John. Pretty soon Mike found a cucumber in the refrigerator. Charlie, John and Mike had a slow pitch orange to a cucumber bat. They added a green apple to the game. It was great fun until somebody really slammed one. Fragments of fruit flew everywhere. I don’t know why Bob and Betty thought that was so funny.

What wasn’t funny at all was when Mom came in the door. She’d forgotten her second suitcase.

Did I ever thank you for sticking around to clean up? Everybody else scrammed.

Best, Henry

Simple and sincere, letters become precious slices of their lives.