Forever Stamps
A new writing practice has come into my life and saved me, in a way. Everyone I’ve described it to has been moved by the idea. So, I offer you a bit of my experience. If there’s someone you’re missing, convinced they are out of reach, you might find some special pages to write on, too.
My letters began eight days after she passed. The daily flow of text messages had ceased, leaving me with a lot to say. So, I dedicated a notebook to her. As one of those writers who hoards journals, I bought it a while back not knowing what I’d use it for. Now I do.
I could tell her anything. “We’ll talk about this till you don’t need to talk about it anymore,” she said whenever I apologized for my confusion or sadness filling our conversation. She was my heart partner and my safe space.
The notebook’s cardboard cover has sparkling jewels cascading across a white background, and the pages are lined and framed with pastel shades of the jewel tones. The sturdy cover and silver ring binding support my writing, almost as easily as the phone does to send a text.
My heart pours through the ink and the pen and onto the page. Over my shoulder, her murmuring “Um, hum” brushes my ear. Her spirit abides between the pages and the edge of the vast hole left by her passing. The space entices and frightens me. My scribbled lines carry my love to her like a pastel Star Wars saga opening crawl. Her spirit welcomes my words, filling the darkness with light.
Limitless undying love which shines around me like a million suns
It calls me on and on across the universe. – Lennon & McCartney
It’s her birthday today. I have a letter to write.
Maria, this is such a lovely story. You are both fortunate to have had each other as friends. I’m so sorry for your loss.
Thanks so much, Jackie.
This is a beautiful thought Maria. And Happy Heavenly Birthday to her. <3
Thanks so much, Sally. So happy to remember our lovely evening together on your back porch before Christmas a few years ago.
I’m so sorry, Maria, over the loss of your dear friend. A devastating blow. I’m sending my love and my thanks for this beautiful post and idea. We need all the tools we can find to help us heal. xoxo
Thanks so much, Tracey. The journal has been such a comfort. I’m grateful for the inspiration that led me to give it a try. xoxo
I wonder what I might write to my parents, specifically my dad who always wanted me to strive for my best. He didn’t know how to display affection for a restless child who could never sit still for him to read me a story. I questioned his love for a long time but now that he has been gone so long, I have a lot to share with him.
I’ve got a new notebook I purchased because of its beauty – teal leather with imprints of dandelion puffs. A natural leather cord ties it shut. Perhaps it now has a use. I just named the front page, Dear Dad and Hello Mom so I can write to the one that calls to my heart in the moment.
Thanks, Maria.
Oh, my heart felt so full as you described that beautiful notebook. I’ve gotten to the point where just looking at mine gives me a sense of peace and connection to my friend. I’m delighted, too, by the full pages multiplying. “Dear Dad and Hello Mom” — wonderful.