A couple of months ago, I received this letter from my older brother, John Murphy. It echoed some of my own thoughts on the subject, so I thought I would share it with you.

Dear Patty,

This morning, I spent time sorting one of the many boxes from dad’s house. It was full of treasures, letters, baptism, marriage and death certificates, and a journal of sorts. Several thoughts occurred to me.

It seems that writing is a lost art. How many young men and women today could sit down and compose a thoughtful, coherent and flowing letter expressing where they are in their lives and their sentiments about the recipient of the letter?

Today we communicate with social media which tends to lack any true feeling or content. The history of our lives lasts only until our hard drives crash. The historical picture-record of persons and families exists on thumb drives and in cyberspace.

With the exception of dedicated scrap-bookers, the maintenance of family photo albums and boxes of historical pictures which documented our lives, are a thing of the past.

Ask a mother or a grandparent it they have a picture of their new child or grandchild, and they reach for their cell phone. These pictures will only exist as long as the cell phone works or until it is lost. True, some dedicated, electronically competent folks will download them to their computer and be diligent in backing up the files for future reference, but most of us do not transfer them to paper or a safe place.

In the future, how likely is it that a great grandchild will find a thumb drive compatible with today’s technology, be able to view their ancestors, and know who they were? There are no notations in pencil on the back naming the person in the picture or their relationship to anyone.

The use of written language as a means of expressing thoughts and feelings is a lost art. Personal letters are nearly non-existent. The sentiment in the old letters I found today was heartfelt. Our parents expressing their love and devotion to each other or the love of an adult child for their mother would be lost in a tweet.

Language has changed and been reduced to acronyms. Perhaps we are becoming so self-absorbed that communication is more about ourselves and less about relationships. Have deep feelings about family and loved ones been replaced by a quest for volume of “friends?”

So, my dear sister, I will conclude this rant with the hope that all is well with you and your family. I truly appreciate your efforts as the family scribe in capturing a glimpse of Butte, our family and the stories of the people who have influenced out lives.

Your loving brother,

John