On Monday, I reached the end of the internet. I’ve seen everything there is to see online. No one should have that kind of time. Not even the impending royal baby could shake me from my ennui with all things online.
Well, I take that back about the baby. My day was momentarily brightened when I realized that the newest addition to Britain’s royal family shares a birthday with my hometown of Cleveland. Christening Kate and William’s baby boy Cleveland Brown Windsor via Twitter and Facebook momentarily raised my spirits.
Still, I found myself caught up on almost everything and, instead of finding it liberating, I was a little depressed. My job had required a lot of time spent on the internet, and sometimes, I felt as if I was in that Portlandia technology loop skit. But surfing the web without purpose left me feeling adrift.
When the internet failed me, however, the U.S. Postal Service came through. A funny card arrived from a friend and former co-worker, just a note to let me know she was thinking of me.
It’s actually the third card I’ve received within this past week. Emails and phone calls are great, but nothing really beats getting something in the mail.
Maybe I’m just old enough where I remember mail as the main form of communication—postcards, letters to friends—and even to pen pals. One of my friends in Brooklyn is the former pen pal of one of my high school friends. Though we reconnected through the modern technology of Facebook, whenever people ask how me met, we laugh and tell them the story. They, in turn, always chuckle when they hear the term “pen pal,” something that people don’t really have anymore.
In May, three of my friends stopped by for a visit—they all happened to be free from work and school commitments the same week and took a road trip to Brooklyn. Of course, that was even better than getting something in the mail. That Saturday, as I saw them off on their way back to Ohio, I got a little choked up.
As I tearfully walked to my door, the mail carrier stopped me and handed me a package. It was a box from another former co-worker, filled with fun items—candies, stickers, buttons and finger puppets. Knowing that she’d picked out these items to send to me took the edge off my friends’ departure that day.
When another former co-worker asked me for my current address, I’d hoped she was sending her famous baklava. And sure enough, I got a card accompanied by her homemade desserts. Before she started her own business, she would bring baklava in to work and put them on a bookshelf in the middle of the magazine’s editorial department. People were usually too polite to eat the last one, so I usually did. I may have eaten the second-to-last and third-to-last pieces too.
There’s probably a path worn thin on the carpet from my visits to that bookshelf for various treats—Dolly Mixture from England, homemade snacks and the annual arrival of holiday cookies tucked into a bedpan from a local hospital. We assumed that the bedpan was clean, and the cookies were delicious.
So these little gifts and notes do more than just cheer me up—they bring back a lot of happy memories. I try to remember to send care packages when a friend is ill, though I often rely on delivery systems like Harry and David or Spoonful of Comfort. But now that I’ve received some care packages, I’m going to try to hand-select my gifts.
Another surprise package arrived from a friend who lives in New Hampshire, with Vermont Grafton cheddar and even a flower. The cheese saved me on a post-chemo day when I was too tired to go to the grocery store or look for food. There was also a nice note, reminding me to keep fighting to get better.
The words of encouragement are important too. Often, I’m called a tough cookie, when it feels like cancer and chemo have taken a big bite out of me. Or like they’re nibbling at my edges, stealing my hair and nails. People boost my self-confidence about my search for work. They remind me that this will all be in the past soon. This isn’t a call for gifts, but an online thank-you note.
This sentiment may seem as cheesy as that Grafton cheddar, but mostly I’m reminded of how lucky I am to have these people in my life.