The major changes in the way we reach out to one another astounds us great-grandmothers. During our college years, we wrote lovely letters to our parents and hardly ever spoke on the phone. There was usually one phone per dorm floor, used mostly for emergency calls and date-making. And dates were local calls, boyfriends near-by.
By the time our children were in college, they phoned home on Sundays--collect. We had desultory conversation, no details, not all we had described in our letters home. It could be said we were in touch, technically.
And now, in the obvious availability of constant contact, we say even less. The alphabet has been corrupted, emotions are abbreviations, wtf and omg.
All of which make us grateful for the telephone calls we still receive, the letters that are written, the devotion expressed each day at a pre-designated time.
Keep them cards and letters coming. We love them.