The Possibilities

She finds herself racing to the end of the driveway each day to collect the mail. It’s funny how the unspoken creeds of childhood follow you into adulthood isn’t it? The inexplicable to the unknowing and hard to explain quirks that you only possess due to some long ago experience that molded your young impressionable mind.

Someone I know has to sort through the Sunday paper and no one is allowed to touch it until she is done. Even if there are parts she isn’t going to read. There are piles people. Someone else I know (might be the same person, might not) folds every piece of cheese into four even little squares. So they are bite-size, people. The first quirk followed her to adulthood, but only in her own home, never her former. The second quirk was safely executed in all places, to the rolling eyes of her husband who cringes at their daughter now doing the same.

Which brings us to another quirk she possesses. It is a drive, a need, a prerequisite to happiness if you will. The Monday through Saturday Santa Claus makes a visit on those favorite days. He deposits goodies of all kinds from his sack to the box outside the front door.  As a young child she waited and waited each day for him to arrive. She would pace back and forth with the four-legged guard, who would burst forth with ferocious barks meant to scare him away. It never worked. Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor hail, nor furry “bark is worse than her bite” dog, would keep him away. He would come. She would collect. The day that followed would be a giant letdown after the 11 o’clock on the dot mail party.

Today it remains much the same, but the universe smiles down on this quirk. For the Monday through Saturday Santa comes at 5:00 p.m. on the dot now. There is a whole day of building anticipation. He kindly comes before anyone else can arrive home and collect. Except her daughter.

Which is precisely how she finds herself racing each day to collect the mail. Sometimes she wins.

Sometimes she stands and watches the wonder in her daughter’s eyes at the possibilities in the box at the end of the driveway.

 

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7 thoughts on “The Possibilities

  1. I was that kid. Growing up we had a post office box in the post office. Our town was rather small. All the way through high school, I volunteered to go down to get the mail, whenever I could. It was just like Christmas, even if there was nothing for me. I still check my school mailbox a couple of times a day, even though there’s rarely anything there.

  2. Cute Kim. I love the use of your descriptions instead of just using one word, “four-legged guard” “bite-size, people” your reference to Santa Claus…make it so much more interesting. Just love the creativity. I’m hopeful that someday I will become creative. 🙂 Love the slice, Kim!

  3. This reminds me of someone I know who found joy in racing to the end of the driveway. Love your ending “Sometimes she stands and watches the wonder in her daughter’s eyes at the possibilities in the box at the end of the driveway.” Love the possibilities

  4. Great Slice! I love the word choice throughout. I felt like you were talking about me, several years ago, as I eagerly awaited the mail each day in the summer!

  5. Kim, this is fantastic. I think so many of us can relate to this, but I love the idea of you racing to get there before your daughter. I wonder if more of us are feeling this way about the mailbox, or maybe it’s just because I’m overseas. I think most of my bad news (bills) comes online, so I’m always excited to see what’s in the mailbox. Since we don’t get to see friends and family often, I think most of us look forward to checking for mail. Of course, now I’m much less excited to check my email. 🙂

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