A Love Letter to Paris by Rebecca Raisin is out now! Click to get a copy ⭐️
I had one of those days recently where I decided to declutter the house and organise all the cupboards. Fine in theory, until you stumble on a treasure trove of memories and take that long walk back down memory lane… In the cupboard amongst forgotten pillowcases and throw rugs I found a box of memories tucked away from my twenties. My first thought was, oh to be that age again, when life seemed so much simpler. As I dug through these keepsakes I found bundles of letters, poignant love letters, letters from my grandfather in cursive writing that I struggled to decipher, funny letters from friends written after I’d made the move from Adelaide to Perth back when the cost of phoning each other across state borders was exorbitant.
Decluttering forgotten, I settled on the carpet to read these missives, which transported me to another time, another me. Some of the letters made me laugh, some made me cry. The ones from my grandfather, who died when I was almost twenty are so precious, I couldn’t believe that past me stuffed them in a box and promptly forgot about them. The love letters were next. Young love, is there anything sweeter, and let’s be frank, wildly dramatic?
My suitor, who still happens to be my suitor, declared his love and talked about how devastating it would be when we were split apart by the horrible predicament we found ourselves in: working for a full day at our jobs where we wouldn’t cross paths or be able to speak to one another because mobile phones weren’t a thing and our bosses wouldn’t allow private phone calls – probably sensible,so instead, we wrote love letters to pass that horrific eight hours where we’d be torn apart. Us, poor misunderstood star – crossed lovers, working on opposite sides of town…Yet, somehow our love survived! My trip down memory lane buoyed me and filled my heart. My teen boys had a good laugh at their dad’s wild protestations of love! And then it struck me, they won’t have these relics to look back on, to laugh and joke and cry over. They won’t be able to hold the brittle, browned parchment filled with the loops and curls of a grandparent against their heart. Will they remember the first stages of puppy love when their crush emailed them a poem?
Not really the same as secreting a letter in your pocket, reading it so often the folds in the paper disturb the ink. That email will be lost to the ether. Lost forever. Deleted, probably. And what about a letter from a best friend, one who had to move and misses you terribly but recounts every minute detail of their life, so you feel that you’re still part of it. And the first break up letter, oh so harsh, but part of the journey. Now, how will we remember these times? A text, an email, in some cases just an emoji? Technology that flashes on our screens and then disappears. Sitting there on the carpet, laughing with my family, it made me sad to think it would all end here. The lost art of love letters.
Why don’t we write love letters anymore? It’s romantic! Why don’t we eke out fancy stationery and pen a note to a long – distance friend? Doesn’t it show that we’ve slowed down, taken time out of our busy lives, and made them our sole focus while we share our secrets and desires, our love and longing, or just a good old – fashioned gossip? I wrote A Love Letter to Paris as an ode to these memories from the past in the hopes that we can bring the lost art of love letter writing back to the fore. In the future I imagine someone just like me, deciding to declutter their cupboards and finding a forgotten box of treasures, as they sit on the carpet and take that long leisurely walk down memory lane and the thought of such a thing makes me smile…