Judy endeavored to clean out a closet the other day. I don’t normally experience that condition, so I’m pleased that she does. As a youngster, such housework was generally not in my purview.

Keeping a dairy barn in shape for the unannounced visit from the milk inspector…. well, that was another matter, a constant matter. As a kid that’s the house cleaning that I did.

Long story short, and getting back to Jude’s closet cleaning episode, she chanced upon an old envelope filled with letters from me written to her ! They were circa 1980, you know, back in the old courting days .

At that time, I obviously was not in contention as seriously with MS as I am now. How so? Well, the letters were hand-written, neatly I would add. These days, I can barely handwrite and if I do, it’s not a pretty picture. Unnerving neurological impairments have exacted their toll.

But, so what! That’s life. Something else struck me about these notes. Who handwrites them anymore ? What letters, notes, missives etc. are rendered without use of a computer keyboard ? I scanned these dusty old documents and imagined myself a relic .

But here’s the cool part: Reading these old overtures reminded me of how effective the written word is, provided, of course, that they were deftly crafted messages. It seemed as though they were. They must have been. After all, here we are still courting 40 years later.


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