Ever since I left 'home' and went to university at the age of 18 my parents have written to me twice a week, every week. I am now 43(!) and they still write to me twice a week, every week.

There have been newspaper clippings, tea bags (really), photos, stamps (please write back!), DIY tools, seeds, colouring books, chocolate bars, pressed flowers, recipes, more photos, Sometimes it is just a card with their news. Often it is a package with sweets, stickers or ice cream money for my young son. Other times there will be drawings of what is growing in their garden or a postcard of a recent day out. But mainly it has been words - letters, notelets, backs of envelopes. Stories of neighbours, family, the weather, trips and shopping; thank you letters after their visits to stay with us.

We're not a million miles away from each other - 250 miles - but we don't see each other as much or as easily as we'd wish and so these letters have been moments of connection over the last 25 years and it has all been down to them. Their relentless kindness and generosity to think of me and my family and make sure that there are words of love and encouragement and interest dropping regularly through my letterbox - wherever I am, have been or will be - has been extraordinary. It's taken me a while to realise this. I see that I've taken their actions for granted and I really must write back more often. Thank you Mum and Dad.