Getting Mail

Lenore is my Aunt Jackie’s mail person. She does not put my Aunt’s mail in the mailbox--she opens the screen door and places it in on my Aunt’s countertop. She sorts through the mail herself before giving it to my Aunt. And sometimes Lenore will wait (like today) for my Aunt to open a package—Lenore wants to see what my Aunt has received and who sent it to her. Then Lenore gives Daisy, my Aunt’s golden retriever, a cookie. Lenore carries around cookies just for my Aunt’s dog. Sometimes, when there is a snow storm Lenore shovels my Aunt’s walk. Lenore expects nothing in return.

My Aunt lives in rural upstate New York where the mail and the mail person is a connection to the outside world.

Part of my daily routine is to retrieve the mail. Mail is important to me—even the junk mail. When the mail slot opens and the dogs bark I am comforted to know envelopes have arrived—I feel anticipation. As I walk to the door I wonder what surprises will greet me. I enjoy sorting through the important, not so important, and totally unimportant catalogues, bills, magazines, and newspapers.

My daughter Sam lives in Manhattan with two roommates. They have one mailbox and 2 keys. Sam is not one of the keepers of the keys. And of her 2 roommates who are the keepers—only one of them ever picks up the mail. She picks it up around once a week. None the girls feels any need to view the mail more frequently than that. They see no point. Their world is electronic. No paper is necessary.  They have online bank accounts and direct deposit for their checks. They receive and pay their bills through their computer or ipad. Their newspapers and magazines are on their Kindle. They go to websites to view catalogues. And many of their invitations are e-vites.

Sometimes this annoys me. In particular it annoyed me when my nephew was getting married and it took Sam well a week to get around to retrieving her invitation. I couldn’t understand why she felt no need to view it immediately like I did.  She said she already knew when the wedding was and she had 6 weeks to return the response card so why should she rush? She didn’t get it---she did get what could be so thrilling about opening an envelope.

Both Samantha and Briana received their college acceptance letters in the mail. I waited home for several straight days harassing the mailman until it got here. The wait was torture.

Kara did not have that experience. On a Friday night one minute after midnight she refreshed her friend Chrissy’s iphone to read her acceptance letter. There was no paper or waiting for the mailman. The post office wasn’t even open. Notification was 100% electronic. It was instant gratification. There was no human intervention.

I do not know my mailman. And even if I did I doubt he would bring cookies to my dogs. The Lenores’ of the world will soon be all but a memory—even in rural upstate New York. All the anticipation of the mail’s arrival will be gone. And at the dinner table husbands and wives will cease asking each other did you get the mail today? It will be one less conversation to have. And one more ritual erased from daily life.