In this technological age, I was surprised that he had taken the time to write to me longhand instead of just sending me an e-mail or composing the note in a word-processing program and printing it up. He’d grinned and told me he was old-fashioned, that printouts and e-mails seemed so impersonal. Handwritten notes were the only way he communicated with people he cared about. I remember how my face grew warm at his words as I realized that he was talking about me. He cared about me.
