Large yellow envelopes angled against the doorway; too large and packed, too full to fit inside our mailbox.
The New Yorker, invitations to upcoming events, and financial papers. And the solicitations from dozens of organizations they contributed to. I had no idea.
There was so much mail – equal parts overwhelming and comforting; I felt as if I was sitting with my Mom and Dad, sifting through it all.
I looked forward to the yellow envelopes.
After a few months, they started to come less frequently. The envelopes became less full. The large yellow envelopes replaced by smaller ones.
Today I drove up and there was a small yellow envelope in the mailbox. It occurred to me that I hadn’t received one in weeks. This one held four items. A coupon, two subscription reminders, and a random magazine.
That was it. At some point the mail just stops coming. I miss the mail.