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I grew up in a different era. We kept in touch by letter or phone. We answered with Thank You notes, family updates, silly cards and notes that could be tied up with a ribbon and revisited at a later time, at the kitchen table, with a second cup of coffee.
Those of you, like me, with children far away or even down the block, may need saving. I am taking on the task.
If you need to hear from your children, to get a response, to check in, to check up, I have developed a form letter for you.
If you need to hear from your children, to get a response, to check in, to check up, I have developed a form letter for you.
Merely, copy, paste and hit Send.
Or Tweet.
Or Text.
It works. I promise.
It goes something like this:
(PickOne)
Signed...
Your...friend...son..daughter...hairball...I don’t know...
Ed...Ethel...Larry the Rapster...Anonymous...I don’t remember...
Simply underline and return.
Or if you, dear parent, are feeling Internet Incompetent, fear not as there is always Text Editor or Auto Suggest or Auto Correct or ....
A Secret Santa of publishing when words fail you...and if words fail you do not forget that there are Emoticons to fill in the blanks when You blank...
So get on it. Get after it. Say hello to someone you love. Shout a hello from the rooftops. Whisper sweet nothings or just announce that you are HERE and wonder WHERE everyone went!!!
Then sit back and plan for your retirement,
while you wait for a response.
And if all else fails...
Send Guilt.
Piles and piles and piles of passive aggressive...guilt.
Like...
Looking forward to hearing from you...
Love from..
The people who love you...people who miss you...people who need you...people who have every art project you made in elementary school in a lock box in the basement, exactly for times like these.
You are missed.
My mailbox is stuck on stupid.
This is a CARD. It goes through the mail. It needs a stamp. You get a stamp at the Post Office. You know, the place where you can see the Wanted Posters.
...and believe me...you are wanted...
Loud Sigh.
Love,
The people who may not Tweet well,
but just figured out how to post your Junior High pictures on Facebook.
That box of your artifacts in the basement is a treasure trove of memories.
For those of you needing an ending to the Yard Yetis A Gardener's Tale...
the ending begins...
right here...(click to read here)
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