The picture is of my Holiday Card. I share it with the following thoughts:

I suppose the idea starts with our friend Aaron, who secured a postal job with a song. It was during lockdown, and things were crazy. Writing a song and sending it to the federal government resulted in a job. I love that.

I might be getting ahead of myself, though, as the story really starts with my maternal grandmother, Bernice Closson Stehr, a widow who was the Postmistress in Freeport, Michigan. As a young child, I celebrated behind-the-scenes access in the small-town post office when we visited for the holidays. I adored playing in the racks and daydreaming about piles of mail carefully marked with mysterious destinations. I liked the little boxes with glass fronts whose contents were accessed by complicated dials and numbers. My Grandma was in charge of every single one of those little boxes. She was the boss.

Watching Grandma sort mail into the compartments while talking to my mom and greeting visitors was impressive. Letting us eat the endless cookies people dropped off left me with an undying LOVE for the post office. I’ll always choose the US mail system. This year, I started making cards with my photos. I mail them to patients for birthdays and holidays. It’s a great way to stay connected. It’s love in an envelope and makes its trek for 66 cents. It is the best deal out there. I am an avid fan and supporter of the USPS.

Getting back to Aaron, understanding that he is a talented musician AND a mail carrier inspired me to consider the mail carrier that visits my office. I wondered what else he does. I started paying attention when he dropped off my mail. I ask him about his day or garden or weekend. We don’t talk for long, but the words we exchange are real. He is kind and optimistic. I smile every time I see him. I am grateful for him and notice when he isn’t there.

This created a shift in how I think about other people I have regular interactions with– the dry cleaner, grocer, and printer. I learn and use their names. It matters. I hope it makes them feel seen, but my motivation might be selfish as it reminds me that we are connected and part of a larger community.

Joy in connecting inspired me to stop depositing checks online. I drive to the bank, get out of my car, and go into the lobby; connecting with the teller is important. So is walking into the pharmacy and skipping the self-checkout at Aldi.

It is strange that I find writing 500 words about such a simple idea reasonable, but connecting with others is essential and fulfilling. It builds relationships and community. It’s crazy, but fifteen seconds a day, five days a week, adds up to over an hour a year!

In 2024, my goal is to make those seconds count.