{Short story originally posted in L’Chaim}

She pops up the red flag , glancing over her shoulder as she does. They all do. She looks at the sky and presses the palms of her hands to her eyes.

It’s Jack I feel bad for. A postal worker in life, he didn’t know he’d be required to continue his courier services by death.

When she’s gone, I collect the letters, one from her to “Mrs. Virginia Anders” and two others. Mrs. Anders is her mom. Or is it was? I’m never sure on these things. I know this because this is her third letter to leave. The first was tentative. “I miss you and love you.” You could tell she didn’t know where this was going. The second letter was needier. “I could use you this week! What do I tell him?”

I steam the envelope to her third letter and carefully peel open the flap. She’s angry, oh so angry! “How could you leave me!” she says. In spots, the writing smudges. The color of the ink distends into this circle with ragged edges. The paper’s wrinkled.

Then I do something I’ve never done with any of the letters. I add a note at the bottom. “Mrs. Anders,” I write. “Please don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.” I refold the letter, return it to the envelope, and glue the flap shut again. Then I take it and the rest of the letters in a metal bowl to John’s gravesite. I light a match and watch them burn like I have for two years now. It’s not in my job description.

Originally posted in L’Chaim.

The sunlight sparkles on the water, speckles the path, and dances with the trees. I sit on a log bench and meditate on the memory verse for my Bible study:

He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation, for all things in heaven and on earth were created by him – all things,
whether visible or invisible, whether thrones or dominions, whether principalities or powers – all things were created through him and for him. He himself is before all things and all things are held together in him.

All of this has been created by him, through him, and for him.

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