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Five Minute Fridays #Send

Linking up with Kate at Heading Home to write about one word for Five Minutes...

I hadn't heard her voice in years.  Several.  But one day for whatever reason I decided my heart had to write her and find out.  Notes had always been a vehicle. Notes penned on college ruled paper and passed in history and spanish class.  Always scrolling pretty cursive from her and barely legible scratch from me.  Filled with nonsense, plans for the weekend, comments about cute boys, or as always from her encouraging Bible verses.

After high school finished and we said good bye for several years.  I found some of our old notes.  And I had to pull out some stationery and write again.
I remember the way I would pen something about my life in this patch of grass, labor over it for awhile, and then double check that all of the words I started out painstakingly writing so they wouldn't need to be decoded ended up needing a little interpretation. I'd sift through the scratch and retrace over letters that I thought needed clearing up a bit.  Being that my normal note starts in print and then ends in plursive.  Print and Cursive joined haphazardly.

Always it would end that I loved her still and missed her.  Wish I could hug her.

I remember when I first got a letter back.  All the way from Bama.  Hot and steamy, thunderstorm plagued Bama.  She had two girls now and she was deep in the life of ministry with her husband.
The notes were always on the same cream stationery with scalloped edges and they ended with the signature 'S' that swirled around and married the 'T' in Stacie.  Like old times.

The letters began to pile up.  Not too fast.  Because when you get a letter you savor it.  You read it slowly.  You know, someone has taken the time to actually sit down and pen, stamp, and mail box send.  You just get what they are now telling you and you mind's eye imagine the little glimpse they gave you.
Her notes still were always hopeful.  Cheerful.  Like old times.  And they always carried some humor, so that I could almost still hear that laugh I hadn't heard in years.  I could picture those big green eyes sparkling as I read the letters.

I miss that.  We carried on that easy kind of correspondence for quite a while.  No phone calls or texts, just old school.
It was sweet.

Like the term of endearment we called each other in middle school, was sweet. Always a sweet spot in my week to receive a personal letter of snail mail from a dear old friend.
A friend that no longer ate baklavas since nothing that decadent ever passes through her nothing but healthy mouth...but still is soul sweet in every way.

I need to pull out my stationery again and mailbox send some more thoughts even if now it will be across an ocean.  It's special.  It's sweet.  Almost as sweet as a dozen layers of phyllo with honey and cinnamon, cloves dripping down.

Have a beautiful Friday.


  1. Love, friendship that never grows always sweet...Your post is beautiful..visiting from 5 Minute Friday :)

  2. Wow. Your beautiful imagery had me holding the cream stationary, seeing the plursive, and tasting the sweet phyllo. What a great post from a great writer... thank you for sharing your story and your gift here. Happy Friday!


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