All the letters in all the years.
The first ever handwritten letter was thought to have been sent by the Persian Queen Atossa in around 500 BC, according to the ancient historian Hellanicus. The oldest written language is suggested to be the Sumerian language from 3400 to 3200 BCE with earliest coherent texts from about 2600 BCE.
Undeniably, hand written letters carry an emotional weight as they take time and effort to construct, especially when compared to modern digital messages. But, they can be more difficult to read, due to the quality and clarity of the senders grammar and hand writing!
- Family photos in Nassau and with my parents and siblings at home in Norfolk.
One of the first letters I wrote, aged 5, was to my mother just after my sister was born. A few years earlier, when staying with my grandparents at Kilverstone, my parents sent me postcards from their holiday abroad as well as corresponding with my Nanny evidenced from her letter to them.
Letter from Nanny 1953
“…send a big kiss to Mummy and Daddy xxx Frances has kissed the paper”
Welcoming Bridget
“..It was very nice seeing you yesterday and baby Bridget I love her already..”
I am not sure who taught me how to write letters, but it is likely to have been my parents and/or various nannies. Letter writing and thank you notes were part and parcel of the etiquette of our up-bringing; it was considered de rigueur and ‘good manners’.
Learning to write at Thetford Preparatory School we used pencil and wrote on lines across heavy formica covered slates which could be wiped clean. Reports from the school about my writing range from ‘working hard’ aged 5, to ‘improving rapidly aged 6, ‘neat and careful’ aged 7, ‘has mastered “cursive” writing’ aged 8 however by 9 ‘can write well but is sometimes untidy’!
My drawing apparently got better and better but sadly my hand writing is now appalling unless I concentrate very carefully!
I have kept many of my acceptance letters received for party invitations as well as thank you Letters from friends.
In the summer of 1968 four of us held a Farewell Party in our classroom to celebrate leaving our boarding school. Recently I re-discovered some of the acceptance notes for this party, which brought back many happy memories.
When I was a deb in 1969 my mother held a cocktail party for me. There are copious acceptance and thank you letters for this, from people I knew and some complete strangers - probably from a ‘list’ from other mothers! .
I also have acceptance and thank yous letters for our wedding in 1981 which was hosted at Kilverstone by my father & step-mother, with an evening party held at Wretham by my mother & step-father.
There were some wonderful and amusing thank yous for the surprise 40th birthday party I held for Angus. The Ealand family sent individual postcards spelling out thank you with a different letter on each one. Angus printed out a composite letter listing all the presents he received and ticking the appropriate person and their present.
Thank you from the Ealand family
Individual postcards spelling out thank you plus party photos at Cooks Farm.
I treasure very much all of these mementos from parties past, together with the many letters I wrote home from school and when starting to travel further afield. I have kept the letters sent to me at school by my parents and they kept those I sent them - over the years they gave me back large folders of these which makes for an amazing record of my school life!
Letters home
“…Darling Mums and Dads, Thank you very much for the ordomants (sic) …”
Until now I have found it hard to get rid of all of this correspondence, however writing these blogs could be the moment to re-read some, not all, of them and then burn them…
Letters recall events/happenings from my youth such as the birth of puppies to my dog Blaze, a golden Labrador. I think my parents might well have written to include me in what was happening at home, certainly after I was sent to Boarding School, and my three siblings still remained at home. In association with photos from this era the letters confirm my memories and underpin my connection with my family. They remind me of how blessed and loved we were as a family growing-up. This feels quite important, it confirms we were a happy family even though later my parents divorced.
I do sometimes wonder about the veracity of my memories. Recently I was reminiscing with the older of my two brothers about being collected from the village school by Mr Aylott, the family chauffeur. I recalled the scent, colour and warmth of the red leather seats which had been sitting in the sun. I thought the car was a Hillman Imp which had an inward sloping rear window. In fact it was a Ford Prefect, the former was a car in Nassau, Bahamas, used when we visited our maternal grandparents.
The re-reading process has been emotional, in both good and bad ways and ultimately cleansing. It actually makes me re-assess my life and helps me recognise how I have forged a way, perhaps better than I thought, through it. It has also allowed me to stitch together disparate parts of my journey. I realise sometimes I had dwelt on the sad aspects and now find myself in a more forgiving mood. Reading the correspondence with interest and joy has also helped me make more sense of everything.
I used to be a huge letter writer, I think we all were in the 1970s. I recall being dismayed when my Danish friend Lone stopped writing to me - this coincided with the birth of her firstborn, my god-daughter…
Cousin Jenny’s letters were always full of wit, her postcards certainly were well selected, both the picture on the front and the handwritten message on the back, which usually included a ‘bon mot’ to quote my brother-in-law David. Also Chris Stewart wrote about their move from Cooks Farm to Spain - these letters are hilarious.
Other letters I have kept include from friends and my extended family. An archive of our relationships - an historic record/diary of my life...
When we hand write messages to those we care for, we create meaning and memory, triggering the release of dopamine in the brain through the neurotransmission of the feel-good sensation of writing words of love and gratitude.
I really do enjoy the physicality of writing when I have a nice fountain pen, smooth paper to write on, space to rest my hands and do not feel hurried. Inevitably I get carried away, my words flowing faster than my hand, which adds to the turmoil and indecipherability of my hand-writing.
Everybody comments on my hand writing, which eventually stopped me communicating with a lot of friends, no longer enthusiastically sending postcards from holidays.
I learnt shorthand at Secretarial College which may have had a bearing and I occasionally write in French, especially when I am writing notes to accompany my daily stitching routine. For a while I learnt Sanskrit, I really enjoyed using the calligraphic like pen to make the letters.
Recently I met up with my 30 year old goddaughter. I was thrilled when she sent me a handwritten postcard from her work trip to Iceland. Her mother and I shared a flat in London, her grandmother and my mother socialised together in London in the early 1950s.
Judging by the copious amount of cards available to buy for every occasion, including THANK-YOUS, I feel the days of hand written correspondence is still with us despite the continually rising cost of postage! I am glad, as correspondence has deeply informed, influenced and inspired my own journey, both in the moment and now again looking back and reflecting.
Thank-you’s
Merci, gracias, thanks…
I can feel it’s consequence beginning to emerge in my artwork in many subtle and intangible ways - like threads through time.
