by Patricia Roop Hollinger
Shuffle….Shuffle… was the sound of footsteps slowly, but deliberately, making their way to the row of mailboxes near the entryway of the retirement village where I reside.
A resident retrieved her mail from the previous day commenting, with a note of relief in her voice, “Ah! no catalogs today.”
Shuffle….Shuffle…. as another resident trekked her way on the same mission.
“The mailman is not here yet?” she exclaimed. “Why it is 4:00 p.m. and he’s usually here at 3:00 p.m.”
I chose not to inform her that the mailMAN was actually in a female body.
“How was your Thanksgiving?” she asked the woman who was still pleased there were no catalogs in her box.
“Fantastic. Nineteen of us were able to sit at the same table. You know my grandson has a BIG house, but would you believe he is building an even bigger one with a movie theater and indoor gym. He is doing quite well you know.”
The conversation ended there. I mean, how was the woman asking the question going to top that Thanksgiving story? They departed.
Shuffle….Shuffle…. as a disheveled and hunchbacked gentleman approached the mailboxes with great anticipation. I just sensed that this was to be a highlight of his day.
“What…the mailman’s not here yet?” as though utterly dismayed at such a possibility. Again, I chose not to dispel his belief that a woman, not a man, was delivering his mail. However, I did verbally make note that the holiday season was fast approaching; thus the likely delay.
“Humph!” was the reply as he went back to his apartment.
I made a mental note to NEVER allow the mail delivery schedule become the highlight of my day as my birthdays continue to accumulate.
Patricia Roop Hollinger is a newlywed of 3 years to a high school heart-throb after they both experienced the deaths of their respective spouses. She continues employment one day a week as an LCPC/Pastoral Counselor to keep her gray matter from deteriorating. A lover of cats, books and words.