Could there be anything more prosaic than picking up the
afternoon mail? Grey phalanx of metal
boxes, all uniform in size, keyholes worn with years of wiggling keys to slot
in--bills, flyers, junk mail, expected mail, unexpected mail. Who could have predicted the power of a piece
of expected mail on the topic of taxes?
I knew it was coming, vouchers to pay estimated taxes quarterly. How utterly without interest!
So you can imagine how blindsided I felt by my reaction when
I pulled the plain white envelop from its metal resting place. Neatly written return address in New Mexico, neatly written
address to me. But the handwriting
itself? I hadn’t seen it in years or so
it seemed. I felt a blow to my sternum, eyes filled with tears as memories
flooded through me. Here was the hand
that sent me one of Elisabeth Barrett Browning’s love sonnets in a note in
junior English, the same hand that wrote a lovely poem when the first pictures
came back of earth from space detailing the swirling blues and greens, the
sense of wonder of this new perspective of our home. This was the writing that tightly packed the onion
skin letters penned from Vietnam. This
hand composed love letters in Vienna, posted across the Atlantic to keep
fragile connections alive.
Over 52 years I’ve seen this particular hand, but not for
years have I seen it on an envelope. The
ease of phone calls, email and Skype precluded the handwritten letter even as
recently as an eighteen month tour in Afghanistan for USAID. And once again we are separated-- by only 300
miles, but 300 nevertheless and for two years.
The best way to get the tax forms to me was by snail mail. No big thing, right? How easily we can be taken unawares and suddenly
a half century of memory kaleidoscopes through the mind. Tears of remembered joy, sorrow, regret,
chagrin, embarrassment, the whole gamut, coursed down, dripped on the envelope.
I heard footsteps behind me, approaching the mailboxes. I hurriedly turned to the idling car, head
ducked, mumbling a hello with choked voice and left.
My husband is currently working in New Mexico, Land of
Enchantment. Enchantment indeed…
