The last year that the United States Postal Service delivered twice daily was.......

Christmas, 2014


It's easy to get lost in the hustle and commercial aspects of Christmas each year.  Usually, I end up ill from days of alternating sweat and chill from going in and out of stores bundled in down gear in Michigan's frigid temperatures.  Each year, I promise that I won't be the fool out at the last minute trying to pull off the fab holiday meal and looking for that elusive, must-have toy.  This Christmas proved to be a little different.  The kids now know that mom and dad make up Santa so a lot of pressure was off.  Also, having recently lost a relative, we are stuck in the time period where we count each holiday since my sister in law's death.  We are up to one Mother's day, two Thanksgivings and two Christmases.  As I write this, I try to remember when I stopped counting the post death holidays of my dad's passing.  I'm thinking four, maybe five.  Incidentally, this is Christmas number nineteen.


Anyway, this Christmas was marked by frantic making of memories because my mom is 86 and a half years old.  I also wonder at what age one starts again adding the "half" to their age.  I think that we all let it go after becoming a teenager.  I can't imagine a teen declaring that they are "13 and a half"!  I would guess that after about age 85, one start adding the "half" back, ever so grateful to make it another six months.  Well, that it what I've resorted to doing.  I proudly, thankfully declare my mother's age inclusive of the half because I am so grateful to say it.  I have bated breath every morning waiting for her to pick up her phone and so relieved (with an exhale) when she does.


So, what's up with the USPS trivia, you ask?  Well, we decided to play a party game on Christmas, "Wits and Wages".  Usually, my mother passes at anything that actually involves attention, trying to remember or constant movement.  I insisted that she play with my family of four and we packed our patience.  I thought that it might spark a few neurons as her memory is really bad these days.  The seven round trivia/guessing game started just as I expected.  If a percentage was the answer, she may give a number over a 100.  She forgot the sequence of the game even though every round involves writing down your guess and then betting on the correct guess (that may or may not have been your own).  Mom was actually doing ok with a little coaching i.e. "since there are only 168 hours in a week, your number should be less than that", "this answer will be in minutes", "you don't have to bet on your guess if another person's guess now seems more reasonable".  So, the game went on like this and my nine and eleven year old kids proved to be very patient.  We played one game so that everyone could get a feel for the game and then proceeded to game two where the expectation was more serious play, even for Granny despite her memory only lasting an average of 10 minutes.
So, then the question involved the USPS twice daily mail delivery.  My husband didn't know that there had ever been such a thing.  I remember my mother telling me about this when I used to beg for stories of times before I was born.  Then, everyone writes down a guess.  My husband's guess: 1862.  Was he thinking that this mail delivery involved the pony express??  My guess: 1962.  I knew that it had to be sometime before I was born in 1972.  I have no idea what my kids' guessed.  Any year in the 1900's is prehistoric to them.  Then, comes my mother's guess: 1950.  We all placed our bets and my mother bet it all on her answer and I followed suit.  To this point in the game, her answers were the ones that no one usually bet on but her.  One of the kids then read the answer and Hot Dog, Granny was not only closest to the actual answer (which determines the pay out) but was spot on - 1950 was the exact answer!  We gave high fives and then I saw a twinkle in my mom's eye.  She still had it!  I saw confidence; she was so ticked and so was I.  We all whooped it up and then joked that she was the only one at the table living at that time!


This was the best part of the Christmas day. I find myself studying her face, studying the veins in the back of her hands all the while trying to etch the tiniest details in my memory knowing that one day I will close my eyes and try damn hard to see her in my mind's eye.  I am trying to hold on to every piece of her and I mightily will the deterioration and death to stay at bay.  This entire Christmas season, I have had a cloud over me trying to make it special because it may be my mother's last Christmas.  This one, funny moment made me realize that I don't have to try so hard because the features and characteristics of my mother that warm my heart will never fade from memory. 


As I get ready to go to bed on this Christmas night, exhausted and thankful for family and a little emotional, I picture my beautiful mother as a skinny, youthful, sexy wife and mother of 22 years old in 1950 when the USPS delivered mail twice daily.  I imagine that young lady not knowing that 22 years later she would had a baby girl who would cherish every moment being her daughter.  Merry Christmas!!!

The dreaded drop off loop

Today, I dropped my little girl at school and didn't see her walk in the door.  Why? Because I was in the "loop".  The loop is the evil, brain child of some mastermind who thinks that it is a good idea to  have cars entering and existing a two lane semi-circle where precious little lives are being deposited (or picked up) with the precision of an automated rail system.  NOT!  It is a trap where tempers flare, where one car that inches forward in the drop off lane instead of exiting into the flow lane can cause a three vehicle pile up of minivans.  The loop is why I did not see my nine year old walk into school this morning.
I would love to stay parked curbside and watch my little girl enter the building.  But no!  You must deposit your child and immediately pull into the flow lane to exit.  Don't you dare wait too long because there will be an angry beast with coffee mug in hand blowing at you to exit so that they can take your spot.  Your delay can cause of gridlock of massive proportions because the cars behind you won't be able to exit as the flow lane is at a standstill because, dare I say, someone park in front of you to drop their kid off.  No, parking in front of me is too far from the door.  It's a loop for goodness sake.  Think semi-circle;
The computer scientist in me can think of an algorithm where everyone gets to drop off their kid, wait to see them enter and pull off without horn honking and cursing.  The problem is that we will never pull it off without the cars of the future that drive themselves.  Why?  Because we drive with emotion: not wanting to be late has us pulling off before the door slams.  The argument that we had with our spouse in the morning causes us to drive just a little more aggressively and have little patience for the speed limit obeying car in front of us.  Emotion made me a tad bit paranoid when I didn't see the little girl enter the building.

Not seeing her enter the building made me contemplate causing complete havoc and actually completing my circular drive and reentering the loop.  Not wanting to hit another car made me keep going.  Still, I glanced back in the rearview mirror hoping to get a glance of her silver coat but the SUV following too closely prevented that view.  A little panic had me make a mental note of her Justice polka dot shirt with the "C" on it and the gray jogging pants as I fought the image of the scary man grabbing her before she could make it in the door.  I fought these crazy thoughts as I drove straight instead of making the left turn toward the office, planning to circle back to the school.  I actually turned back toward the school as I looked in the back seat for a forgotten lunch or book to give me a excuse to go inside the school to calm my fears.  There was no such excuse and I fought my rising panic and the horrible images of an abducted child as I made my way to work.  I called myself foolish and said a silent prayer that my thoughts were indeed ridiculous and not mother's instinct.  I told myself that I knew that she had made it inside repeatedly like a mantra.  Even still I calculated the nine hours until I would pick her up.  I fought the scenario that played with too much detail in my head where I would go to pick her up and someone would tell me that she had been absent.  I fought the urge to text her teacher (he's a friend) with some made up story about how I needed to check on her.  I fought the demons of imagination and aftermath of too many scary movies all day.  I even lamented that if I had gotten her the much asked for IPhone that I wouldn't be going through all the emotions and crazy!  And so it continued, all day, until I left work at 5:30 heading to pick up my baby.  Even as I pulled into the evil loop, I had one last thought of hope that my child was in school and not...... well, just not.  I walked into the school building, said hello to a few parents and looked through the glass door of the media center.  And there my little, disinterested child gave me a "what took you so long?" look and I have never been so happy to see her!  Tomorrow morning, I'm parking in the lot and walking her to the door.  So long "loop"!