The Lingering Weight of Words

They surprised me.

A phone call from a friend I hadn’t heard from in over a year

Then, even more surprising –

the letter,

That friend had not communicated for what seemed forever.

I do not question their absence.

I am comforted that they know

My heart always has room.

The caller prefers “What’sApp.”

She travels extensively,

Finds the app simple to use internationally,

And easily accommodates wordy missives –

Phone calls, written messages –

Even if months or years apart –

With her, conversation is effortless.

We are bold, unafraid to laugh at ourselves.

It is an easy friendship.

The letter writer is different.

Reserved now, with a timid nature.

A contrast with the adolescent defiance I remember

That made her reserved schoolteacher mother shudder.

Now, the thought of freeways crossing her city

Frightens her.

Her cautious persona made the unanticipated arrival of her letter a shock.

She emails me now.

I miss the handwritten letters –

Lovely, smooth-flowing loops of cursive

on paper,

a tangible fragment of her.

Yet, for me,

Putting pen to paper is a challenge.

I’m more facile on my keyboard.

Reliable Helvetica Neue in “Pages”,

Plain Helvetica in Gmail –

Serviceable,

Functional.

Practical,

And devoid of romance.

To begin a handwritten letter,

It is essential to choose a pen,

ink color,

and paper.

I deliberate my options:

Fountain pen, or gel,

Elegant Cross ballpoint, or simple Bic;

Black ink or blue;

A handmade card, floral stationery,

Or a lined sheet from a notebook?

Sentences in graphite

On the back of an envelope

Feel too casual for anything that matters.

Still…

I sift through

the detritus of the dead

And glance at a scrap

Torn from a memo pad –

A penciled grocery list

He jotted down.

Suddenly,

Ordinary words –

And yet they carry

An unbearable heaviness,

Bearing down

On my heart,

Unyiedling.

The lingering weight

Of words.