For The Love Of Mail

  Thoughts from my College Journal in 1995
Once a day, six days a week, we come together as one as we wait for the mail.  On the outside it appears that we have nothing in common. Some of us are in the Nursing Program and spend our days in labs, others of us are jocks and play for the College teams, we all have different majors and enjoy doing different things in our spare time, but once a day here we stand joined together waiting breathlessly for the mailman.  We all feel a rush of excitement for the possibility of being surprised.  Living in Rexburg Idaho I feel cut off from the “real” world.  Mail to me is my way to communicate with the outside world.  If mail were ever withheld from me I’d think it “cruel and unusual punishment.”  Receiving mail from my dear friends is what keeps me going and encourages me to press on.  Mail is distributed to each dorm in large bags and then put out by the RA’s into individual mailboxes for each apartment. When the mail has been distributed the RA raises a flag right out side the office indicating the mail is read for pick up.  I think we all feel a surge of exuberance in our hearts when we see the raised mail flag.
Depending if I know a letter should be arriving I will run home between classes to check the mail.   It’s like a bad addiction; we’re all on edge till we our daily fix of mail. 
There is something about going away to College that makes one yearn for something familiar.  My antidote to ward of this feeling of loneliness is mail. To up the dosage of this most wonderful antidote is to write more letters.  I have learned that the more letters I write the odds of receiving a letter increases. For me this theory has proven true. I feel so blessed that my excitement of waiting for the mailman usually comes to a happy ending. If not anything else I can count on getting a weekly letter from my Dad and Paternal Grandmother. I feel bad for those that their excitement often turns to disappointment as once again they look into their narrow mail slots and the only thing that perpetuates is dust and cobwebs.  It just doesn’t make sense to me why one’s own parents don’t write them regularly.  It’s not like we’re here in prison sent off for our bad behavior. We’re in college, a place we all worked hard to get to.  Most of us this is our first time being away from home.  And as much as we couldn’t stand our parents nagging us while we were living at home we miss the love they showered us with as they looked out for our best interests.
I also get letters from my friends. We could easily type our letters, but my friends and I prefer to write them by hand.  Letting our handwriting accentuate the intensity of our feelings.  Clamoring for attention and demanding an immediate response. Even thought we live across the country our words can feel like a warm hug when we are in need of one.  At the same time our friendship is like a delicate intricate bridge.  It doesn’t matter how exquisite this bridge is during a crisis our far away friends cannot run across it to save us. We need to have local friends to hold our hand and help us along the way. This is so much easier said then done. Knowing from the beginning that I was only going to be attending this school for 2 short years it’s been hard for me to make friends.  The thought of opening up to someone and sharing with them just to have them torn out of my arms like the kidnapping of a child is just too hard for me to bear. The ironic thing is on average people only live in once place for 2 or 3 years so this is no different then when I graduate from college and have a place of my own. I hope over time I grow out of this way of thinking and am able to connect with others. 

 Commentary: It took me nearly 14 years to finally get over my fears and to open up and make friends. With the low cost of cell phones and e-mail no matter where we live we can stay connected.  Even now some of my closest friends that live down the street we communicate more with e-mail then in person. With the addition of kids, jobs, and the chaos of life it's not so easy to schedule time to talk face to face.  But when we do it's a barrow of laughs.  I got together with one of my girlfriends last month that I usually just talk to on the phone and I couldn't believe how much fun we had together.  This just reminds me that I need to make more time to spend with friends.

To read more of my   journey to letting my guard down, finding me and making friends visit my blog: www.wifetellsall.blogspot.com

  

WifeTellsAll WifeTellsAll
31-35, F
Feb 10, 2010