Ha ha ha ha... I love irony...
Ok... so I won't go into the entire story, but the irony of this evening's events is still cracking me up.

Ralated... sorta...
When I was little, lots of mail came to my parents' house. Most of the time, it was addressed to my mom or my dad. Alex and I were not to open anything without our names on it. And at the same time, my parents did not open anything that was not addressed to my brother or me. Catalogs and magazines were fair game, unless it was someone's subscription... and the addressee got it first. (And for this reason, I only open mail if it is addressed to me... unless given expressed permission... which is the point that spurred this whole story).

So to a small degree, receiving mail meant that you were special. Mail means that you are remembered... that you are thought of... that you are loved. You got something that someone else didn't get. It was addressed to YOU! Mail was cool. Mail is cool.

When my dad used to travel for business a lot, he sent my mom, brother and I cards at least once a week. We've saved a bunch of them in our memory boxes that are kept at my parents' house. While my dad was travelling for most of my school-age years, I never really thought of him as being "gone." He made time for us. If he said he was going to be at a game, event, banquet, or whatever... he was there. If we ever called him at the office (and this is still true to this day), he asked whoever he was meeting with or taking to to wait, and he put us first.

He stopped travelling as much when I was a junior in high school. But when I went off to college, I was "thought of" quite often. Not a week passed without a package from my mom, dad, or grandmother sending something in the mail. It made a very difficult and lonely time in my life a little easier to get through... even if I didn't realize it as I went through it.

It's amazing the effects that a simple gesture... a simple package... a simple card, note, whatever... can have on a person. And in this instance, my mind is all over the place.

OH... the irony!

Yes, I know that this doesn't make sense to anyone but me, and maybe one other reader... but that's ok... I'm writing this for me and don't necessarily feel the need to explain... I do, however, feel the need to catalog this event. Perhaps more explanation will be forthcoming.