We see them at every newsstand we walk by, sold in nearly every gas station across the state, and yet they are invisible to us. In today’s cities and towns we, natives, turn our noses up at the idea of buying a postcard. Months ago, I would have never walked by a rack of postcards in Pikes Place and gotten excited about all the different choices there was to pick from. The stereotypical Space Needle, Mt. Rainer on a sunny day, and the view Kerry Park, while all picturesque, was nothing new to me. I mean how “touristy” would it be of me to buy a 4x6 picture and write “look where I went this weekend” on the back, only to send to Grandma Jane-- because let's be honest, if you wanted to show off where you went on a trip you would rather post a picture to Instagram for your followers to see.
My first postcard arrived in 2013, my junior year in high school. Coming home to a black and white postcard of a man carrying a picture of the Mona Lisa lying on the counter addressed to me was a strange yet enchanting feeling. I was amused by the fact that my oldest sister decided to take the time to write a short note about her wild college adventures to me back in boring old suburbia. I always admired both my sister’s abilities to teach me about the pleasures of the little things, such as handwritten notes. Only six or seven sentences of her large, curvy handwriting fit on the back of the card, but that was all that was needed to make me smile and feel loved. I sent one back a few days later with a short response, updating her about life back at home, and we went from there.
Three years and plenty of postcards later, I have found a new appreciation for what a postcard stands for. They are a way to connect, not virtually like the way we text our friends, but when physically putting your pen to the back of the detailed picture you selected for that person, you begin to write and create a personal connection with whom you desire to send it to. We should not be embarrassed to invest in a postcard for a friend or family member in a different state or country. One of the best things about these little glossy pictures is that people send them from places you haven’t gotten the chance to travel to yet; the prospect of reading a note about new adventures in a foreign place is enthralling.
I have acquired postcards from Pullman, Seattle, Costa Rica, New York, Walla Walla, Wisconsin, Ireland, and everywhere in between. Each enclosed in them, a different venture my sisters and I have shared with one another. Talking about places traveled, things accomplished, people met, and relationships that were formed, postcards started to serve the purpose to inspire me to broaden my horizons, try new things, and share my experiences with others in a more intimate way.
It wasn’t about the quirky picture of a city, person, or animal on the cover, but rather what message was enclosed on the back. Taking your time to sit down and write about your day in a couple sentences to a loved one, or maybe even to a new friend, can help solidify a friendship for a lifetime. A handwritten letter, no matter the length often times goes unappreciated, a lost art that serves as a timeless memento about your life at that stage.
Postcards are anything but invisible to me now. Instead, I see fifty plus unshared adventures rotating on a stand in a store, or at a farmers market. The only tough choice now is deciding which picture you want to set the mood of the note with.
