A wise friend of mine, when I told him I wrote letters of multiple pages to faraway friends, simply scoffed. Too much pressure, he claimed, to convey all it is that time and distance accumulates in one life to another. Too much! Much easier to just send a peculiarly picked postcard with some brief words. The words won’t say it, but imply “I thought of you (and think of you) long enough to crystallize that thought into a memento: this postcard.” Any thought of its own inadequacy, or the void of what’s not said, is washed away by simple presence. You’re there, I’m not there, but here we are.