They lay there on my bedroom chair, unceremoniously wrapped up in plastic bags of various dimensions and origins, carefully packed and then unpacked from my suitcase and lovingly {albeit randomly} placed there on my return from England in early August. There they remained – in a pile – even after several weeks!

A cursory glance would reveal a heap that resembled a cluttered mess of meaningless “stuff”, but on deeper examination, one might catch a glimpse of an old jewelry box, a photograph, a lace handkerchief, a book of poetry, or a seemingly insignificant piece of tattered paper peeking out from behind its humble, crumpled container, along with a copy of Mum’s remembrance ceremony, revealing her smiling face.

Within these bags lay some of the little things I rescued from her coat pocket, her wallet, a handbag, a cardboard box, a travel bag, or drawers in a bedside table. Remnants from my mother’s life. Special treasures she valued dearly. Meaningful memories embodied in each item … memories that evoked a love deep within her.

Every day I looked at the pile on the chair … and I walked on by. It weighed heavy on my mind, but I quickly banished the thought. Why could I not bring myself to sift through these belongings? Was I really THAT busy … or just putting it off? Truth is, I wasn’t ready to take that walk through memory lane and risk the inevitable ebb and flow of grief that accompanies the loss of a loved one. I needed more time. More readiness.

This past weekend, I sat on my bedroom floor and unfolded each bag. I sorted the contents one bag at a time. Old photos with old photos, recent with recent. Jewelry with jewelry. Books with booklets, letters with letters and a separate stack for cards, papers and random memorabilia. As I handled each item and placed it in its appropriate pile, I realized this was no muddled mess of memorabilia.

Instead, there was a distinct sense of order, a consistency in message and a common theme connecting all these treasures, even though I’d gathered each item from its unique “hiding” place, scattered about in different locations in the house. 

Oh joy! What an unexpected gift I received, all wrapped up in words of beautiful expression, much like the threads of sentiment woven into a beautiful living tapestry of love. You see, I discovered so much more than the mere face value of these “items” I intended to preserve in my mother’s memory. I was enthralled and blessed by handwritten notes and expressions of love from long ago {and recently} inscribed on the back of photographs, postcards, inside greeting cards and beautiful letters, some dating back countless years ago. 

There were letters spanning dozens of years, characterizing special family members or chronicling events in their life. I read declarations of thanks, words of gratitude for a loved one, encouragement to go on, and professions of love on scraps of paper. Letters from my Grandma, some of them from my own children and grandchildren, and others from Mum’s large family of siblings, their thoughts and feelings voiced in affectionate words, each in distinctive handwriting.

These meaningful writings are treasures to cherish and to pass on to the next generations. I was overcome with love and admiration as I relished every beautiful written word. I savored each message, explored every thought as I surrendered to the emotions flowing from the writer; but I also experienced emotions the recipient of the letter {my mother} would undoubtedly have felt as she read the sentimental words meant for her.

What an amazing legacy we leave when we preserve the thoughts and feelings of others expressed in their hand written words. It’s powerful! We can see life as it was through their eyes, visit places they’ve been, attend events they’ve enjoyed, and experience emotions that moved them. We can know them and understand them, learn who they were and what they stood for, even though they are long gone. 

Hand written expressions have a far-reaching power. We can even relive our own life again and again at will, through words as we journal our own experiences and recount lessons we’ve learned. How fascinating to revisit memories we or others have recorded in writings. Aaaah! The power of journaling.

How delighted I was to find two small bibles in their original and much worn boxes, and underneath, or inside each bible I uncovered extra-special photos and love notes from each family member. The near and dear ones … those deemed worthy of protecting wrapped in God’s Holy Word.

This is where I found a tattered note from my grandmother wishing my mother a happy 29th birthday. My Grandma expressed deep devotion to my mother, who treasured the words and probably read them time and again – even years after her

beloved mother was gone. Then along I come 66 years later and discover the little note among other treasures and am blessed in multiple ways, once by Grandma’s beautiful sentiments, secondly by the loving way Mum honored her letter, and thirdly through the opportunity to bless my own children and grandchildren with this meaningful story.

My mother cherished the simple things in life … little sentimental meaningful gifts. Something from each grandchild was folded up under her bible. What joy those gifts of love must have provided to honor and protect them in such a way. Can you imagine the emotion that overwhelmed me in the discovery!

And now the blessing will pass on. The next time our family gathers, these gifts will return full circle to their original owners {now grown men and a woman with their own families} and they’ll understand how greatly their Grandma cherished those little gifts they took time to write many years ago. The circle of love! It’s a powerful thing.

In this day and age of hi-tech convenience, I suspect the art of writing notes in long hand is quickly disappearing. It’s so easy to shoot out an email, comment on FaceBook, schedule an automated birthday card, and call on a cell phone or Skype in person. Yes, I’m guilty of choosing these methods of communication.

But when all is said and done, I must confess there’s nothing quite so meaningful than inking a blank page with personal words and expressions of love that kindle a fire in the heart of a loved one, and inscribing a sentiment that has the potential to live on in the hearts of others. Something special, worthy of tucking away in or under the bible, housed next to God for safe keeping. Endearing hand written expressions to read over and over – to revisit at will, or to safeguard as a special remembrance to touch the next generation. So powerful and far-reaching.

If ever I was tempted to stop writing {which I’m not} this would rekindle the fire to continue.  How about you? Do you write down and share your thoughts and feelings? You never know where they’ll end up and who may be blessed!

“Oh, that my words were recorded, that they were written on a scroll” Job 19:23-27