A Dedication to Mailbox #62

I started my first weekly page called Mailbox Monday in October 2011, just a few months after my first blog post. If I had kept up with it, I would be nearing my 400th box. My current count is 217 unique mailboxes along with several repeat appearances. I always have my eye out for mailboxes and am touched when friends and family send their favorites.

As I mentioned in my original Mailbox post, I can't pass a unique box without thinking about it and the humans that depend on it. Does the box reflect their personality or do the human start reflecting their box? The same question has been asked of spouses and pets so why not mailboxes. That box knows more about their humans than the nosy next door neighbor.

Today's Mailbox Monday is a repeat, this is #62's fourth appearance. I don't know the humans that belong to #62, but I do know they are struggling right now. There was fresh snow to record the evidence as we drove by early Sunday morning. The tires, the footprints, the torture, the sadness. It appears that a Saturday night back-up from across the street put this creative guy down for the count. We don't know if he was sleeping when it happened or saw the brake lights and screamed for help.

Oct 2012
Oct 2013

Oct 2015

Feb 2019

Time will tell if #62 can make it to another Halloween. The physical and emotional damage might be too much. I've been thinking about visiting the humans that are dealing with this sudden trauma and offering my condolences. A blog dedication is the least I can do. I'm ashamed that I never told them (or left a note - that way the box would know too) how much the annual decorations brightened my day. I'm hopeful the tormentor left a note and an offer to pay for damages before driving off.

It's a tough time of year to be a mailbox in our neighborhood. The storms are cycling through every few days. Even if there are protective reflectors, the plows get within inches of the doors and supports. Doors struggle to stay shut in the wind. As seen in last week's Mailbox Monday, many are buried as the snow piles high. An injury, particularly as intense as #62's, can be life threatening. Fortunately this box was cherished as witnessed by the care and creativity throughout the years. Whether this is it or recovery is successful, #62 made life better for many humans and we'll never forget.