Perhaps the very first postcard from Paris that I ever received (through my mom) was one that my father sent to her 32 years ago. I just turned a year old and my father was en-route to his work overseas. He sent it from Charles De Gaulle airport during a layover just to «say hello from Paris and my love for you (my mother) and Christine! (me)».
On a visit to my old country a few years ago, I was helping my mother sort through old documents in our old family home when I found this postcard. I had to keep it as a vintage souvenir of Paris and of a time when people (like my father) sent postcards to their loved ones. It now sits in a frame on my nightstand. In a way, I always did have Paris with me, even when I was just a year old and didn't know about it.
In the age of email, texting, and IM, I still love sending postcards. Often in my travels to Paris or different parts of France and Europe, I send postcards to myself. One might think it strange but the postmark helps me remember where I was when I wrote that note (of encouragement).