A Book of Letters
In the age of the internet and iPhones, of Skype and email, It seems hard to believe that 30 years ago, when I left home and moved to Australia, there were only two ways to communicate; you wrote letters, or you phoned.
And in those days, long distance phone calls were still expensive. A short call might cost $14 or more; and that was real money back then! At 21 I had moved from New Zealand to Australia; a little over three hours by plane. I wasn’t a great communicator; but I usually spoke by phone with either my parents, sister or grandmother at least a couple of times a month. And occasionally I would write a letter. While I was a lousy correspondent, my father started writing to me weekly.
For the first few months, the letters were occassional, with my mother often writing the first part of the letter, and my father finishing it, or vice versa. By the second year my father had taken over the writing duties while my mother would proof-read the letters; correcting any