Describe a message or letter you received

The one I remember best is a handwritten letter from my grandfather, which reached me about two months into a semester I spent studying in Australia, back when I was nineteen and fairly homesick, though I wouldn't have admitted that to anyone at the time. He wasn't someone who used email or even the phone much, so a letter was genuinely his medium, written in this careful, slightly old-fashioned handwriting that took him, I found out later, several attempts to get right. It wasn't long — maybe a page — and it didn't say anything especially profound; he mostly wrote about the garden, a neighbour's new dog, the weather back home, ordinary things. But near the end he mentioned, almost as an afterthought, that he was proud I'd gone somewhere unfamiliar on my own, and that being uncomfortable for a while was probably good for me. I received it on a fairly grey Tuesday, sitting in a shared kitchen that smelled faintly of someone else's dinner, and I remember reading it twice in a row before doing anything else. It made me feel, more than anything, less alone than I had in weeks — not because of what it said exactly, but because someone had sat down and taken the time to write it by hand, which felt deliberate in a way that a text message never quite manages.