Dear Constant Reader,
I have a friend with whom I correspond. Like real, in-the-mail, pen & paper letters. We’ve been doing this for a very, very long time. We attended the same university (she undergrad, me grad) and escaped graduated the same year. Her mom gave me a pen (sitting right here on my desk) as a graduation gift and we just started sending letters.
Last summer when I was despondent after Albert’s death. I got a handmade stamp-art card in the mail from her, which contained within a card secured with a bit of washi tape. It was about the size of a playing card, with more stamp art. Nothing else. And a number 1 on the back of the envelope.
I was intrigued and delighted. I love a good mystery. I eagerly awaited the mail each day and cards began showing up…2, 3, 4…
Each one had unique art and one of those intriguing cards taped inside. How many cards would there be all together?
A couple of envelopes came out of order, so I waited (impatiently) for the previous cards so I could open them in order (I’m like that). One day a big envelope came with the number 9 card and one of those card-protector sheets, with nine pockets, like you’d use to store collectible cards. It was one of the ones that came out of order, so I waited before opening the last envelope, wondering the whole time.
When I opened the last greeting card, I learned this was a pocket letter, something that was completely new to me. The art cards could be assembled into a larger picture. It was one last bit of puzzle, figuring out what order they went in (although I had been given the clue that the last card received went in the center).
I love the butterfly ladies. One of the ancient Greek words for butterfly, Ψυχή, also means “soul” or “spirit”. Exactly the uplifting image I needed. The framed piece now hangs on the gallery wall in the bedroom.
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