Serendipity

Usually one begins with a title to a story, but if one does not know where the story is going  the title escapes them. Thus, the title will come at some point, but you need to know how scattered my mind is at this moment that it cannot even focus on the reason for putting pen to paper so-to-speak.
Speaking of pen to paper (maybe I should hyphenate that), today my daughter gave me a letter to mail to her her girlfriend who moved away ( they are 14). With all of the technology today it warms my writers soul that the two of them can correspond this way as I did with my girlfriends at her age.
Writing is nostalgic for me and I even wrote my own two notes today: one to my beloved parents and one to my best friend who is currently living in Sinapore. Sure I see my parents and I use technology to "chat" across the ocean but there is something to be said for snail mail. Choosing a beautiful stamp, writing in cursive and opening the mailbox to find something personal.
I was raised to write thank you notes and I always had an abundance of stationary. The card shops had he best variety at the time and when I was young I also had a collection of stickers to adorn the envelopes. I still write thank you notes and I have cherished momentoes from even my grandparents and their tradition.
I don't normally write my parents unless it's a thank you note but this morning I found a preaddressed envelope to them and since there are some current extenuating circumstances I felt inclined. The day came and went and I had not started my note, but an afternoon phone call and my daughter's letter gave me the incentive I needed to get it out the door!
My parental letter was a simple love letter of sorts and a partial thank you I suppose. I thanked them for my loving family, my memories and the recent beautiful time I have had with them.  After my mother recently experienced a severe stroke and settled into a new recovery routine, my visits have evolved into memories beyond my imagination. Each one is unpredictable and evokes an array of emotions.
My last visit turned into three beautiful hours that I know God blessed us with. It encompassed healing through touch and nostalgia at its finest.  There's something to be said for that feeling of complete and utter peace in the place you grew up in with those you love.
So, as I let my still scattered mind bounce around I come to the conclusion of a title...Serendipity. Just like the origin of the word itself when Walpole wrote his own letter to a friend about an unexpected discovery, I too discovered today that by pleasant surprise that traditions are underlying moments of nostalgia passed on through the years by those we love. I will cherish my letter writing and my invaluable time with my family forever.