ONE of the things I always found rather endearing about my husband is his love of the post.

If we are at home together, the minute that he spots the postman in the vicinity of our road, he’s on standby for something to drop through our door.

And when that actually does happen, he can’t hold himself back from rushing to the mat to see if anything interesting has arrived.

Of course, he’s more likely to find some junk mail or pointless leaflets, but it doesn’t seem to affect his general enthusiasm regarding the potential of what might be there. And really, what’s not to like about the prospect of a personal letter or a card or something from a friend or relative, or even better, some totally unexpected treat?

I’ve been pondering this recently whilst noting how correspondence has changed over the years.

After our recent bereavement, most of the messages communicated to us were digital via the internet or our phones, rather than actual cards or letters sent to our home.

For whatever reason, without any disrespect to anyone who did the former, it is additionally touching when someone goes to the extra trouble to buy a card and send it.

I am especially glad that some people did take that trouble as now that we have these actual artefacts, they can go into our sons’ memory boxes. Media stories seem to agree that people in general are sending less mail of the simple sort, such as a card or a letter.

I, however, send as much snail mail as I ever did. It may be because I am a huge fan of beautiful stationery which I buy by the bucketload and then feel that I should really use.

I have a huge box of thank you cards, birthday cards, notepaper and similar items stashed in our back room, all of which I have spotted, fallen in love with and purchased, feeling that someone might appreciate receiving them some day.

I like to send thank you cards after we’ve been somewhere for dinner and I also pop a lot of random cards in the post to my best friend in Edinburgh, who I don’t get to see very often.

My mum and my aunt like to send clippings to me about all and sundry. I have correspondence from them both going back years which is lovely to have so that I can re-read it every now and again.

I also, thanks to my hoarding tendencies, still possess most of the good luck cards sent to me throughout my entire education, and cards retained from big moments such as passing my driving test, or getting married.

Among this collection are items from friends and relatives who are no longer with us, which of course makes them particularly special.

As a final note this week, I was particularly touched to recently receive a lovely card from a reader who’d also contacted me after the death of our first son. Beth Morton, thank you for your kindness – it meant a lot.