I live in a rural area which for me is the only way to live. The mailbox is about a hundred yards down my gravel driveway. Some days I don’t stop at the mailbox. In fact, I do my best not to look at it. But that really does not help.

It really makes it worse because the mailbox image stays in my head and then I have to wonder if there might be something in there that I need, like a water bill, $500 insurance savings from that lizard, or maybe some grocery coupons.

Many weeks ago, I realized that this mailbox was a problem. For over four years now It has had too much influence on my life. So, I decided to do something about it. That mailbox was not going to mess with my mind anymore.

My Rural Mailbox

I bought the biggest shiniest new mailbox I could find and ordered fancy new lettering and numbers for it.

I dug the post hole deep and set the post in concrete. I made sure it was perfectly plumb and level and stained it a beautiful pewter color. I put the old moldy mailbox in the back of my truck but every time I looked through the rearview mirror, I could still see STANLEY with “Den” and “Liz” written inside little red hearts.

The letters were backward, but I still saw them frontward in my head. So, I turned the mailbox over and now I just see the moldy side.

I Still Sing “And I love Her”

It’s been two weeks now and the mailbox is still riding around in the back of my truck. I can’t throw it away, so I have decided to sand it down and paint it red. That was her favorite color.

I will find some way to donate, sell, or auction it and whatever it brings (even if it’s just $10) will be donated to The MS Foundation, the disease that took her from me and this world. I think she will like this and will make her smile. 

(1) National Multiple Sclerosis Society | Facebook I will send the newly painted mailbox to a randomly selected donor (The amount donated does not matter).

It’s a difficult thing to lose someone that was your world. Everyone handles it differently. Some want to rid their lives of everything that reminds them of their loss immediately. Some cling to each and every piece of their memory. It’s easy to see I am the latter.

I think my new mailbox looks wonderful but for some reason, I still have to search the backroads for my mail.

Sometimes a good neighbor will bring my mail to me.

There was a song: “Money Can’t Buy Me Love”…… mail either.

(I would like to say that our delivery personnel “overall” do a wonderful job) I have heard that sometimes temporary or part-time personnel are needed.

About Guest Author– I’m Dennis Elton Stanley- a 69-year-old active man. I Love to walk in long-distance events and I live in the Ozark Mountains, so I hike a lot. I play multiple musical instruments and love writing.

• Visit my website- The Daily Sinner– https://thedailysinner.blog/

More From Dennis –

• Do You Believe In Love At First Sight?
• Swimming Against The Waves
• Photo-Hiking: The Art Of Being Alive
• Maybe It’s Good When Your Guitar Gently Weeps
• Angels That No Longer Wear White

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