Meeting the Mail Carrier

I often dream about two of my grandmothers - Nanny and Mama Shipp - who both died a few years ago. I dream about being in their homes again, and unlike most dreams, in which details are completely distorted and images are interchanged with other pieces of my life (real or imagined), my grandmothers' homes always appear in my dreams just as they were in real life. Many of us have vivid and distinct memories of our grandparents' homes - sights, smells, tastes - but it seems the nature of dreams for those memories to be altered in some way. I can't explain why my memory of those two houses is preserved, even in my subconscious mind, but I am grateful for it.

One of the things I remember about Nanny and Grandaddy's house is the avocado-green plastic pitcher they kept in their refrigerator, always filled with ice cold water. On hot summer days, Nanny would pour a big glass of water from the pitcher and offer it to the mail carrier. He would sit out on the patio and visit with my grandparents, drink the water, and then continue on his route.

That memory came flooding back to me today when I looked outside the front window of the house and saw the mail carrier coming up the front steps. For the past several years, our mail has been delivered to an ugly set of metal boxes (not even real mail boxes but more like what you see at the post office) down the street from our house - not exactly the personal service my grandparents had.

I went outside and introduced myself to the mail carrier, Richard. He has been delivering mail in this part of town for over 15 years and really likes the neighborhood, but this is not his usual route. He was filling in for our regular carrier, James, who has also had a route in this neighborhood for over 15 years! I didn't have water to offer him from a green plastic pitcher, but we had a nice conversation anyway.

Just one more reason I love our new neighborhood in Atlanta... I met the mail carrier!