Ever have one of those days? You know, the kind that just wears you down so much that you can’t wait to pull the car into the driveway and take a big sigh of relief and whisper the words, “I’m home.”
I had one of those days recently. But when I arrived home, instead of taking a sigh of relief, I had a moment of disbelief.
My mailbox had suddenly gone missing in action – disappeared – vanished! All that was left was a crooked little post sticking out of the cold ground.
The first thing I like to do when I return home from work is check the mailbox for incoming letters. Like most folks my age and beyond, we like our mail the old fashioned way – in a box.
There’s not much these days that tops receiving a well penned letter from a friend or loved one. But this night was different. No box, no mail, and no warm fuzzy feelings.
As I approached my front porch, there it was. My mailbox, or what was left of it, sitting by the front door with a note attached that read, “I swerved to avoid hitting a little cat that ran in front of my car. Please call me.” It was signed by my neighbor who lives around the corner.
All I could think about at that moment was how much damage must have occurred to her vehicle.
Then I thought about the cat, which happened to be playing across the street as I finished reading the note. I could hear the little bell on his collar just a ringing, so I knew he was OK.
But what about my mailbox? Then I thought about this conundrum a little longer and realized I never really liked that box to begin with.
It was always a little crooked, and the flap would never stay closed. Maybe this was the opportunity I was waiting for to get a new mailbox.
I called my neighbor and she was very apologetic while also agreeing to pay for a new mailbox. She indicated her insurance would pay for the damages to her car; and the kitty cat was still playing tag with the local field mice – so I felt like everything was moving in a good direction.
Then it came time to remove the old mailbox post. I’m not an engineer by any stretch of the imagination, but how much concrete does it take to keep a post in place?
Wow! I came just short of blowing up my front yard to get the old post out of the ground.
In addition, my neighbor across the street confessed that his wife had also hit my mailbox several times over the past few years.
Suddenly the light bulb over my head went from dim to very bright. They say the definition of crazy is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.
My guess is if I place my new mailbox in the same area as my beat-up box, I’ll be buying another mailbox in the near future.
The moral of this story is this: 2019 may be the year to move your mailbox!
I’m not big on making resolutions because resolutions only work when you pair them with actions. So forget the resolutions and trade them in for actions that will improve your life as well as the life of others.
Move your mailbox now, my friends, before somebody does it for you.
Rich DeLong, formerly of Richmond Hill, is the executive director for The Villas & The Grand of Seagrass Village in Panama City Beach, Florida. Email him at SeniorMomentsWithRich@gmail.com.