Duncan and Ida MacKinnon on their wedding day, September 25th, 1935.
February 14, 2024
-by Bonny H.J. MacIsaac
A discovery by a family member was recently gifted to me. I spent the weekend going through this treasure trove that would forever alter my perception of love. Bundled in a weathered box, tied with a frayed ribbon, lay a collection of love letters exchanged between my maternal grandparents, Duncan and Ida MacKinnon beginning almost nine decades ago.
The act of writing a love letter was once considered an art form, requiring not just the expression of affection but also a mastery of language and penmanship. Individuals took pride in their ability to craft eloquent prose with a flourish of the pen. From meticulously selecting the perfect stationery to labouring over each word, the process was as much a labour of love as the sentiments it conveyed. Every stroke of the pen carried intentionality; every word carefully chosen to capture the essence of the sender’s emotions.
As I gingerly unfolded the delicate pages, I was transported back in time, enveloped in a world where handwritten words held the power to transcend the barriers of time and space.
The discovery of these love letters was serendipitous, a chance encounter with a piece of family history long forgotten. Yet, as I delved deeper into their contents, I realized that what lay before me was more than just a collection of faded ink and yellowed paper – it was a testament to the enduring power of love in its purest form.
My grandparents, in the throes of youthful infatuation, had penned these letters with a fervor and passion that leaped off the page. Their words danced across the paper in elegant cursive, each stroke of the pen a testament to the depth of their affection. Reading their letters was like witnessing a love story unfold before my very eyes, each page imbued with the tenderness and sincerity that only true love can inspire.
But as I continued to read, I discovered that their love story was not without its trials and tribulations. They married in 1935 and went on to have seven children. My grandfather would occasionally go to work in Dartmouth to help support their dearly loved family. I was travelling through the years as I read each letter. In the 1950s, my grandfather fell ill with leukemia, his once vibrant spirit dimmed by the cruel hand of fate. Yet, even in the face of adversity, their love remained unwavering, a beacon of hope amidst the darkness.
Separated by the confines of illness and hospital walls, my grandparents found solace in their weekly correspondence, eagerly awaiting the arrival of each new letter. For them, writing became a lifeline, a way to bridge the physical distance that threatened to tear them apart. He in the Halifax Infirmary and her on their farm in Scotsville. In their letters, I could feel the palpable longing, the desperate yearning to be together in body as well as spirit.
As my grandfather’s illness progressed, I watched his once steady hand falter, his handwriting becoming increasingly shaky with each passing letter. Yet, despite the physical toll of his illness, his love for my grandmother never wavered. In his letters, I could see the effort it took to hold the pen, the determination to express his feelings even in the face of adversity.
It was in these moments of vulnerability that the true beauty of love letters revealed itself to me. In a world dominated by digital communication, where words are often hastily typed and sent with the click of a button, the act of writing a love letter is a rarity – a relic of a bygone era. Yet, it is precisely this rarity that lends love letters their power, their ability to evoke emotions that transcend the limitations of language.
In the age of instant gratification, the lost art of love letters serves as a poignant reminder of the value of patience and intentionality in matters of the heart. In a world where relationships are often fleeting and superficial, the act of writing a love letter requires a level of commitment and vulnerability that is all too rare. It is a declaration of love in its purest form, a testament to the enduring power of human connection.
But perhaps what is most remarkable about love letters is their ability to transcend time and space, bridging the gap between past and present in a way that few other forms of communication can. As I read through my grandparents’ letters, I felt as though I were witnessing their love story unfold in real time, each word a link in the chain of their shared history. Getting to know the grandfather I had never met. But he was exactly as my grandmother described him in the stories she shared with me as a child.
In an age where digital communication reigns supreme, the tangible intimacy of a handwritten love letter is a rare and precious gift. It is a testament to the enduring power of love in all its forms, a reminder that true connection is not measured in likes or comments, but in the depth of feeling conveyed through the written word.
As we celebrate Valentine’s Day, let us take a moment to honour the lost art of love letters – to celebrate the beauty of handwritten words and the timeless power of love. Let us cherish the letters of generations past, for they are more than just ink on paper – they are a legacy of love that transcends the boundaries of time and space, connecting us to our past and inspiring us to embrace the possibilities of the future.
