When my brother Art, was taking care of dad during his final days, he told me that dad was sad because he wasn’t getting any personal mail.
My dad was a huge fan of the mail. He wrote letters or sent clippings everyday. The highlight of any day was when the mailman came. Most of the time, dad would greet the guy at the door. Rarely was the mailman able to get the mail in the slot, before dad was retrieving it. Junk mail and magazines got the same attention as a letter from a loved one did. Dad’s daily adventures always included a trip to the Post Office, sometimes two or three times a day.
Ken and I certainly notice we get a lot less mail, now that dad is dead.
Anyway – getting back to my story.
After dad complained about not getting any personal mail. Art sent him a card.
Dad was thrilled. But there was no return address or signature on the card, and when dad asked, Art told him it was probably from one of his old students.
It was a homemade card that said, “You can do it.”
I absolutely love this story.