When I was in elementary, junior high, and senior high school I wrote and passed hundreds of notes to my best friend Deb. We would scribble them down on crunched up notebook paper, text book covers, even on our hands and sneak them to one another somehow during class. We told secrets, gossiped, and had more inside jokes than we could ever keep track of. I remember several years ago, sorting through old memories before I moved to Texas. I had to decide what to leave, what to take, and what to throw away. And when I came across a shoe box of 10 year old notes between Deb and I, I just couldn't let them go. To this day, I still recognize her handwriting at a mere glance.
When we found ourselves in college together, we still passed notes, only in a different format. I remember sitting through my criminal justice courses and having an entire conversation with Deb via text message, while she received and responded from the nurse's building. We complained of boredom, made weekend karaoke and dancing plans, and dished about guys.
I still pass notes with Deb. I got one today in the mail. It was an unexpected card, for no occasion other than she read the words and thought of me. And inside was a hand written message in Deb's consistent, neat penmanship that I recognize with ease. I still feel the same excitement, anticipation, and sense of friendship when I get a note from Deb as I did 16 years ago.