I have been guilty of it for sure. Waving things off. “It’s not that important.” Certain that another chance, another opportunity, another life bus, another Tuesday — all will be just around the corner. And I’ll get that chance. And I won’t miss the next opportunity, I promise myself. And I’ll be slower to anger. More quick to act. Love deeper. I’ll give it the attention, the weight it all deserves… won’t I?

I suppose just being aware of it is a start. But I like to give myself reminders. I bought a wax sealer earlier this year. It made me more excited about the hand written letter. Not that I will write the treasures that I have been given. Not that the recipients will save them. Not like I have saved the envelopes written from my mother and grandmother. But maybe they’ll know, in the moment, in that one moment, that I did take the time. To write slowly. In ink. Without word prompt, or spell check or “undo” — I thought of them. I heated the wax and sealed the letter and walked it to the post office. None of that weighs more than an international stamp will carry, but I think it has weight. Weight of heart and thought and time. What more do we really have to give?

I saw it yesterday in the Antique Mall. A small scale. A huge reminder. One like I had never seen before. A little brass device to weigh letters, and to hold the stamps. Small enough to fit in my suitcase. It will sit on my desk. Telling me, on this day, give it all the weight it deserves.