Each Day Emmet and Emily

Technology gives and technology takes.

Handwriting has been taken.

Emily had been proud of her handwriting.

She won all the prizes in grade school when prizes meant a lot.

Her handwriting was elegant, confident, graceful and supremely legible.

Personal computers came along.

Typing took over.

Turned out Emily was an even better typist than she was a handwriter.

Her handwrititng languished under the keyboard assault, waiting to be called upon if needed.

Her handwriting showed up when she was required to leave a sugnature.

Each year that signature seemed to change until atrophy had rendered the signature illegible....more a symbol than aan affirmation.

Emily didn't notice....too many things to sign....too many words to type.

And then last week, early in the morning while her husband Emmet was still asleep, Emily had some leisure and decided to handwrite something.

She still had a few  pieces of linen stationary and a pen that she noticed had an encouraging flow to it.

Her handwriting under the circumstances shook itself from its slumber and was ready to go.

Now Emily needed something to write.

She examined her conscience.

She went to her heart

and she wrote

Each day Emmet and I are further apart.

It looked pretty good, a little reluctant and sad perhaps but passable.

Her handwriting demanded repetition.

Each day Emmet and I appear further apart

Better

Each day Emmet and I become farther apart

Better yet

Each day Emmet and I continue further apart

And then, her hand and mind and heart and soul connected.

Each day Emmet and I feel further apart

Each day Emmet and I grow further apart

Each day Emmet and I look further apart

Each day Emmet and I remain further

Each day Emmet and I seem further apart

Each day Emmet and I...........

Emmet was coming down the stairs heading into the den.

"What are you doing, Em?' asked Emmet.

"Oh nothing Em" answered Emily as she put the stationary in the top left hand drawer of her desk.