While the world was shutting down during COVID, Mom Mom’s mind did the same. By the time restrictions lifted, she was locked behind keypads in memory care. Although intricately mapping every inch of her garden back home in Ambler, she could no longer place her grandson. The loss wasn’t loud, rather a door shut without ceremony. People in front of us aren’t fixtures; they’re blessings on borrowed time.

Before I could even speak, my name was traveling through the mail. Every card has landed into a maroon memory box: an archive of who I was, who I was becoming, and who I might be. Holiday windfalls were appreciated, but I’m more grateful to reflect upon the mannerisms and meaning. Despite dreading my dad’s requirement to write back, we would merrily loiter around our dining room table pondering one-liners for my relatives. In an age where instant messaging across the globe is ubiquitous, why even bother with cards?

An envelope whispers someone cared enough to pause. Discovering the spirit of my peers is increasingly difficult; I’d like to believe cards reclaim the slow grace of human connection. We know the worth of written word, yet too often leave gratitude unspoken. I hope my project can be your nudge.

Process: 30 cards printed in UNC’s student store. Purchased stamp from local craft store. Braille, ink pads, envelopes purchased on Amazon. Infuse with love and send to 10+ people.

Wins:

• Shared beautiful art from valued friend (Alexandra Rempel)
• Braille and stamp add quality textures
• Relatively cheap ($35 total); entrepreneurial potential
• Heartfelt responses from recipients

Losses:

• Artwork significantly cropped to fit card size
• Print quality slightly pixelated due to graphic resolution
• Braille distorts graphic on back of card
• Cheap ink for stamp smudges after drying