The Love Letter. A Dying Art?

I came across this article about love letters by way of the Arts Journal. There's something about a love letter. But maybe that's just because I'm a writer. I like the idea of love transcribed on stationery--handwritten exclamations (or subtle declarations) creased and stuffed in an envelope, dropped in the post (perhaps after much deliberation), and shuttled across distance to bring together two people.

I remember being so tickled when I found my parents' love letters, written so many years earlier when my parents were not my parents but two young kids testing out their romance, my father pursuing my slightly aloof mother (and--gasp--there was a chance I might not be born). Reading those innocent letters felt part archeological dig, part invasion of privacy, and part exhilaration at being privy to, however remotely, the development of a relationship (particularly one so important to me).

I suspect, as the article suggests, that the love letter, written on honest-to-goodness paper, is a thing of the past (still, S. and I met through letters written while we were at different schools, and though that's in the past too, it doesn't seem quite so far in the past). But, then, I suspect letter writing in general is a thing of the past. Why write a letter when you can send an e-mail or text message? Don't get me wrong...I love the electronic age. But there's nothing like opening the mailbox to find something other than bills and catalogs. There's nothing like holding a letter in your hands and later storing it away in an old shoebox. There's nothing like reading words inked in the penmanship of someone who loves you. There's nothing like sitting down to write back.