Tag Archives: standard mail

One Mailbox At A Time

I check through all my online accounts as I do every day.  Against a small amount of junk mail, friendly messages lend me a smile.  In my postal mailbox: only recyclable material.  I think back when I last received anything memorable.  My thoughtful, dear friend (also my neighbor) would warm up that cold box of indistinct dimensions with her exquisite “thank you” or “just because” cards, causing celebration in my heart and head.  The mind struggles.  Many years have passed after all, since the death of my cousin – since that metal space offered wonders in personable envelopes from her.  She always knew how to nourish our special mailbox-bond over the ocean.  During her cancer treatments, too.  Her only child – a one-year old at the time, now has non-deletable, unedited, time- and space-surpassing writings from her own mother.  It is her only post-death connection to her mother’s thoughts, emotions, but also pictures from her various life events in her own hand-written descriptions.  It is an irreplaceable gift of life thanks to standard mail.

The thoughts of my cousin takes me deeper into the past while I remember an aged individual – my grandfather.  He rushes down in his younger dancing steps to the wooden mailbox.  What came from his grandchildren would be added to his collection of our cards and pictures, kept on one of his living room walls.  My letters, though, were only for his eyes.

My grandfather was not one of the “connected”, in today’s technology terms.  His joy in and tie to life were dependent on the deliveries of his neighborhood’s postal officer.  He would wait in anxious hope for one piece of personal paper sent on however rare occasion that may be.  I recall the time when he placed his one and only overseas call to me: he had gotten both my letter and picture.  That was the last time when I heard him in such joyous state.  Soon after, he died.  But not without receiving one more cherished writing from me to touch, smell and keep as long as he could – a connection to me that had always been so dear to his heart.



Filed under Reflections

“Cyberspace? – Not Today”

Arriving at the mailbox cluster with feet on automatic, the rest of the body dejected, mind on the trying times of life at large.  The usual mail comes out.  Why even bother to check every day?  One quick look through the narrow slit would reveal what’s inside: Junk.  Walking back the short distance home, something slips through the ambitious pile of useless papers the left hand (the most capable one) holds.  A pale green envelope.  Every little move downward hurting the aching back and knees, the addressee’s information becomes visible: All in handwriting.  A hint of hope takes over.  What if the handwriting isn’t a trick by some company after all, like the one from where iced best wishes come on special days, year after year after year?

It is not junkmail!  Excitement grows.  A careful cut at the envelope’s top reveals its content: An actual card, a gorgeous one at that, from a dear friend – also a neighbor, who warmed up the heart on numerous other occasions before.  Year after year after year.  Just like that dearest cousin capable of sending a piece of her heart from overseas to help celebrate the human life shaping and reshaping over here.  For every small and big occasion.  Making sure to warm up all over again the cooling heart.  Up to the time of her premature death.

The ever so fluctuating mood made up of grim thoughts, low emotions? Oh, that one?  It has already moved in the other direction.  For it is not a coded message, not even a mere short note that the left hand holds with such a tight grip.  It is  rather a timeless compilation of detailed sentiments of extraordinary warmth and care.  A reach-out gift with resillience not to disappear with immense ease; to add instead anew life to all the other postcards and letters that have been accumulating for long inside multiple boxes of unique memorabilia.

Cyberspace is not welcome today.

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Filed under Reflections