This Mail Is Too Important
We haven’t received your answer to our first letter yet, but there is an American boat in today and we hope to get some mail on that, I hope, I hope. We had a clipper letter from the Dohrmans last week and were so glad to hear from them. It was such a nice happy letter and it made us feel real good. It was the first word Clary heard from them since we arrived here. It’s funny what mail from the States means to the folks out here - how we all watch the papers for arrivals of American Boats and Clippers and then the whole gang congregates at the post office, waiting for the ferry to come in in the evening. This mail is too important to let the postman bring around - everybody’s waiting for it right off the boat. - Annette, May 1940
Just this week, I was listening to an author describe her latest book, centered around the idea of unplugging from your cell phone and reconnecting with the people around you. This is a very popular idea these days. Phone-free dinners are becoming the norm, with some restaurants even providing ‘phone pockets’ to keep your devices off the table (I’m looking at you, Joanna Gaines!). More and more, people are weighing the importance of “Do Not Disturb.”
We live in a world where we feel obligated to be available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. We take our laptops on family vacations. We check emails late into the night. We share pictures of our food with the world, even before we have our first bite. In our hyper-connected society, we love the rush of staying in touch. However, sometimes that feeling of always being ‘on’ can lead to anxiety, exhaustion, and just general stress. Our ‘Fear Of Missing Out’ leads us to actually miss out on the present moment around us.
Now imagine the opposite were the case. Your only connection to the outside world came via clipper ship, and was often 4-6 months behind. You could only share your activities through a typewriter and international postage. Annette lived for mail days. She always wrote in her diary about the letters and magazines she received. It was the highlight of her day, sometimes even skipping her studies to read her Redbook magazine. I love the image of their crew gathering at the post office, waiting breathlessly for precious cargo - words of love, support, and daily life from their families and friends.
How many of us write letters anymore? We send and receive dozens (if not hundreds) of emails a day, but how often do we stop everything to read or write to a loved one? Maybe we can find a balance between constant communication and thoughtful correspondence. Maybe we can be more present with family and friends, and treat that time the same way as Annette - with anticipation, enthusiasm, and joy.
