On average, the Post Office distributes a stamped letter to households – that is, most likely to be sent by a consumer customer – every three weeks on average.
Paragraph starts ringing in my mind as soon as the Messenger notification pops up on the screen and I realize who the message is from: “Some time ago I forgot I was moving …”
Tears well up in my eyes, I smile. Mamban Photosrecalls the love of years ago. I have just received a message from my childhood correspondent after a break of more than 20 years.
“Do you remember me or having correspondents as children,” he asks.
Oh, I remember? I really remember. Our correspondence was a window into a different kind of world, the life of a small village in the north. Over the years, I’ve often wondered what he might belong to.
I am always wrote letters. As a child, my first pen pal was a woman in her twenties. I selected him based on a correspondence posted on teletext because he had a dog. At that time, I knew nothing more wonderful than animals.
Our correspondence ended short when my mother found out the age of my pen pal. I remember how bitter and angry I was when the post office no longer brought pictures of a little hairball and stories of its preconceptions. Now I use my children’s social media channels as a hawk myself and I remind them that not everyone is on the move with good intentions.
“
Few people dig out pen and paper anymore.
Few people dig out pen and paper when the message is easier. The number of letter items in Finland has been declining rapidly since 2010.
According to the Post Office, the number of addressed letters it has distributed has fallen by more than 60 per cent in the last ten years. Most of them are sent by companies and authorities. On average, the Post Office distributes a stamped letter to households – that is, most likely to be sent by a consumer customer – every three weeks on average.
I had time nowadays you write letters far too infrequently. I grab a pen when I want to say something particularly meaningful or make someone feel important. Of course, I am also quite enchanted if someone has used their time to write to me.
If my children were to scratch their countless requests with letters instead of whining about Whatsapp messages, it would be much harder for me to resist them.
Mamba’s song still refreshes my head as I tap the answer on my pen pal. Perhaps the deep blood of nostalgia must be acknowledged that somewhere has its sides. Without Facebook, our roads probably wouldn’t have encountered again.
The author is the editor of HS Policy.
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