Fall of 1992, a 17-year-old young woman was moving into her college dorm room at Arkansas State University with the help of her brother and uncle. They were recording the events of the whole day on a camera for a special someone that was not able to be there. The young woman’s mother was at home, bedridden due to a terminal illness that had taken over her. The daughter had been taking care of her mom for several years now and she was apprehensive about leaving for college. Her mother was her best friend. It had just been the two of them living together. The young girl would miss the Sunday afternoon routine of reading a book then napping with her mom and the nights when her mother waited up for her to get home after a long night with friends.

Not only was it difficult for her mother to move her body, but it was a challenge for the girl’s mother to communicate over the phone. When they did talk over the phone, the daughter asked questions while the mom would respond by pressing numbers on the phone. They talked almost everyday, but the main communication was through writing letters. The mother wasn't able to ask all the questions she wanted to over the phone. They told each other everything, even though one could not even talk. Unfortunately, the illness took over the mother’s body the following spring, and she passed away.

The young woman returned home, married, and had a daughter of her own. She wanted to mirror the relationship she had with her mother with her own daughter. She was able to, but in her own unique way. Saturday morning coffee and road trips to soccer games are a few of her favorite memories she shared with her daughter that she will forever hold in her heart like the ones she did with her own mother.

In the fall of 2013, her daughter started her first semester of college. They both decided to keep in touch not only over the phone but through writing letters, just like she did with her mother twenty-one years ago.

That young woman in the fall of 1992 was my mother. She is my best friend just like her and my grandmother. Writing letters may seem outdated to most millennials, but I believe it is a lost art. It shows you want to invest in someone. It is not as convenient as a phone call or text message, but that is what makes it special. People switch phones and text messages are deleted. Those conversations are gone forever. With a letter, you are able to hold the paper in your hand and trace the ink where the pen was pressed against the paper. I know if my mother was drinking coffee while writing her letters because of the stains on the paper, or if she was in a rush to write because of how her penmanship was slanted. You can feel the emotion of the writer by looking at their words on a piece of paper, unlike looking at a screen where no emotion can be felt. We have lost this emotional connection with one another and we do not know how to communicate our feelings unless we have emojis with heart eyes or a crying face to help us out. When you receive a letter, you are forced to focus on what is being said and make a connection with the writer and their words. You can’t just scroll, or discard it with a casual swipe to the left.

We are in a fast-paced world where instant communication is needed, but it has made us all less intentional with our relationships. Writing letters is a slow and deliberate conversation. Not only do you have to take the time to write, but you have to put effort in to putting your letter in to an envelope, addressing and stamping it. Writing letters is an act of love. A text message is not. You are showing someone you care enough about them to communicate in a way that is more deliberate than typing letters on a screen.

Our letters between my mother and me are concrete. Her words will live on, and still be a part of my life even though she physically is not. Every time I get a letter, it is a gift. I get to keep those words forever.