Bundles of hand-written letters tied with twine beside a bunch of dried lavender and wildflowers on linen.

Kitchen Table Letters

from our table, to your heart

Written by a mom, at her kitchen table, to anyone who needs one.

A bundle of hand-written letters tied with twine, with a sprig of dried lavender, on linen.
A hand writing a letter with a dip pen, beside an ink pot and a bunch of dried flowers on linen.

letters that
feel like home

Tied bundles of letters beside a small bunch of dried wildflowers on linen.

If this is you

It is not too much to want to be cared for.

A letter that says: I thought about you this week, and here is what I want you to know.

  • Maybe you are grieving someone.
  • Maybe you are the strong one.
  • Maybe you are just tired of being the only one who checks in.
Choose your rhythm

How it works

Three steps, and then you can forget about it.

McKenna's hand-drawn illustration for Kitchen Table Letters: four mismatched kitchen chairs in a row.

Choose your rhythm

Every month, paid month by month or a season at a time, or one letter one time. Your first month is $19.99, and shipping is always included.

McKenna's hand-drawn illustration for Kitchen Table Letters: a kitchen table with a vase of flowers under a wall of framed pictures.

Tell me about yourself

A dozen short questions, some easy and some tender. One line is enough, but the more you share, the more personal and meaningful I can make your letter.

McKenna's hand-drawn illustration for Kitchen Table Letters: a pull-down post box marked Letters.

Watch the mailbox

Sign up by the 20th and your first letter goes in the mail the first week of next month. After that, once a month I ask what is on your heart, so the next letter is current.

What comes in the mail

A letter that knows your name.

McKenna's hand-drawn illustration for Kitchen Table Letters: one sealed envelope with a wax seal and stamps.

Written just for you

I read what you told me before I pick up the pen, and I write back to that. Your letter is yours alone, personal and one of a kind

McKenna's hand-drawn illustration for Kitchen Table Letters: a kitchen table under a wall of framed pictures.

In my own hand

Ink on paper, slowly, at my kitchen table. You can see where I pressed harder and where I paused. It takes as long as it takes.

McKenna's hand-drawn illustration for Kitchen Table Letters: a stack of letters tied with a ribbon.

Something to hold

Not a text you scroll past. A letter you can keep in a drawer, take out on a hard day, and read again. It does not disappear.

McKenna's hand-drawn illustration for Kitchen Table Letters: three garden flowers on their stems.

A little surprise now and then

A little keepsake from me to you, maybe a pressed flower from my garden, a favorite recipe, or a meaningful quote, something to brighten your day.

Meet the Mom Behind the Letters

Hey there, welcome to my table

This all started at my kitchen table, where I spend my favorite moments eating delicious food, planning the week, and writing letters to wonderful people.

I have written letters my whole life. To my kids, to friends going through something, to people I hardly knew who looked like they needed one. Somewhere in there I noticed how many people are going through life without a mother in their corner. Some lost theirs. Some never really had one. Some have one who calls every week and still never says the right thing.

So I decided to be a person who says the right thing. There are chickens out back, cats who believe this house is theirs, and flowers by the back door that I press flat all summer so there is something to tuck in an envelope come winter.

I am not a therapist, and I am not pretending to be your mother. I am a woman who will tell you the truth and tell you she loves you in the same breath.

Read the longer version

McKenna's hand-drawn illustration for Kitchen Table Letters: a shaggy dog, set in the stamp.
McKenna's hand-drawn illustration for Kitchen Table Letters: two hands writing a letter.

Choose your rhythm

How often would you like the mail to come?

McKenna\'s hand-drawn illustration for Kitchen Table Letters: one sealed envelope with a wax seal and stamps.

One single letter

$35

once, no subscription

One letter, once. For a hard season, a birthday, or to see what this even is before you commit to anything.

Send one letter
McKenna\'s hand-drawn illustration for Kitchen Table Letters: a few envelopes, one with a pressed flower.

Pay by the season

$29 a letter

a letter every month, billed every three months, $87 each time

The same letter every month, paid three months at a time. Good if you would rather think about it four times a year instead of twelve.

Choose quarterly
McKenna's hand-drawn illustration for Kitchen Table Letters: a post box marked LETTERS.

Pay for the year

$240

billed once a year, which is $20 a letter

Twelve letters, one a month, paid once. The best price per letter, and nothing to think about until next year.

Choose the year

Shipping is free everywhere in the United States, always, and it never shows up as a line on your receipt.

See them side by side

For someone else

Gift for someone you care about.

You already know who they are. The friend grieving a parent. Your brother or sister. The coworker who carries everyone else's burdens and has no one lifting theirs.

You never need their address. You pay, you get a card to print and a link to share, and they fill in their own address and answer their own questions. Their letters are genuine and personal, never something you simply forwarded.

Gift letters to someone

Questions

Things people ask me.

Are the letters really hand-written?

Yes. Every word, in ink, by me. My handwriting is not perfect, and honestly that is part of the point.

Do you send everybody the same letter?

No. I read your answers before I write yours. Each letter carries a monthly theme, but the letter itself is written to you.

What is the surprise?

Now and then I tuck in a little bonus: maybe a flower pressed flat from my garden, a favorite recipe, a sticker, or a quote. It is never the same and never guaranteed, just something small you can tuck away and reach for whenever you need a gentle hug.

Is what I tell you private?

Yes. What you write in the questions is between the two of us. It is never published, never quoted, and never sold.

What if I do not know what to write in the questions?

Share as much or as little as you feel comfortable. One line is perfectly enough. And if a question doesn't fit, you can simply skip it.

Can I cancel?

Any time, and you never have to explain yourself. Your own page has a button for it (the link is in your welcome email), or you can just write back, and I will take care of it.

Where do you mail to?

Anywhere the post office goes in the United States. Shipping is included wherever you are, and it is never charged separately.

Why is there a waitlist some months?

Because these are written by hand, and my hands are the limit. I open a handful of spots each month so that nobody gets a rushed letter.

The waitlist

When the table is full.

A few spots are open this month. If you'd rather wait for the next one, leave your name here.

That is not a sales tactic. It is just how many envelopes two hands can fill in a month while still meaning every word. Leave your name and I will come find you when the next spots open, in the order people wrote in.

Why I ask: this is the first thing I read when a seat opens up.

Ready for a letter?

Pick how often you want the mail to come, and I will take it from there.

Choose your rhythm

A bundle of hand-written letters tied with twine, a sprig of lavender tucked under the string.