Know what’s even better than a check in the mail? A physical manifestation of the fact that someone’s been thinking of you.

I’m actually feeling a good deal of guilt about mail at the moment. A friend of mine sent me a lovely can of sweet rose herbal tea last week (via Amazon, but yes, it arrived by mail) and I have yet to thank her. At first it was because it arrived at a crazy time. Then I was on the road for work, unexpectedly, every day last week. Now it’s because I feel like so much time has passed I should think of a more personal way to express my gratitude than a simple text. Yet such a way hasn’t presented itself. In the meantime, my tardiness increases by the hour.

Also, I have not one, not two, but three overdue items I meant to put in the mail. One is a baby gift for an infant who is now 18 months old and will have already outgrown the outfit I purchased BEFORE he was born. The sad thing about this is that I even already have postage on the envelope, so I was planning ahead, but I failed to connect the mailing address with the envelope.

This is my usual method of failure–connecting the address, the proper postage, and an actual envelope in order to get said package to the intended recipient.

I have a lovely book of English grammar errors purchased for a friend ages ago on that day when I cried while reading my favorite passage of Hamlet from the preserved First Folio which was on tour at the Salt Lake City Library. I don’t recall when exactly that was, except that it was months ago, because it was a beautiful warm sunny day, and those are just now returning to us. So clearly it was at the very least last fall.


My worst failure is a package of hand crocheted baby items that I mean to return to a family in France. They were sent to me as a gift nearly 30 years ago, and as such were intended for me to keep. However the dear woman–a woman who loved and treated me as a daughter–since (at least best I can translate) has been afflicted with health ailments that prohibited her from crocheting such delights for her grandchildren. I meant to send them back as a courtesy as soon as I regained contact with this dear family and learned of the situation. To make things worse, I learned several months ago this dear woman passed away. At that time I felt it best to wait. And then it was Christmas. I have little faith in international mail, especially at Christmas, and decided it best to wait again. At this point it is simply a failure on my part.

Failure to send.

On a happier note, I have been blessed by the generous actions of a good number of people who are much more successful than I at actually connecting the gift, my address, and proper postage and getting things in the mail.

These people deliver!

Numerous and perfect handmade reminders of Doctor Who
Delightful books and presents for my grandson, Sweet Baby James
Cadbury chocolate (a number of times) from the mother country (it’s better from Great Britain)
Belgian chocolate (a number of times)
Scottish shortbread (also a number of times)
Rose tea
A beautiful coffee table book with photos of ancient and magnificent trees
Darling and clever Star Wars dish towels and pins and such
Both sweet and sassy notebooks in which to record my thoughts during hard times

Just to name a few…

What I love most is these appear when I least expect them, but also, habitually, on those rough days when I need a bit of good cheer and when it does my heart veritable good to know I’m loved and supported and that someone out there was thinking of me and acted upon it.

I’m blessed by good people in my life.

I aspire to be more like them.

[Day 98 of Ann Dee Ellis’ 8-Minute Memoir.]

One thought on “Mail

  1. Oh, how many times I have failed to deliver. And, the opposite, when I delivered and it seemed under appreciated. Perhaps I was just too full of myself because I had really delivered.

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