This past weekend, two postcards showed up in our mailbox. The first was sent from Wyoming by my parents, who are currently enjoying a cross-country road trip. The second was written and sent by me from Quebec to my husband. I often send my husband postcards from wherever I travel for work, and I usually beat them home, but it’s still fun to go through my postcard ritual and share my trip with loved ones.
In any case, when I went to hang these two postcards up on the refrigerator this past weekend, I took a minute to admire the collection of correspondence we’ve managed to amass over the past year or so. Because we send postcards, we also receive them, and in the last 18 months, we’ve received postcard greetings from Croatia, Denmark, Oregon, Washington state, Las Vegas, California, Bulgaria, England, Germany, Slovakia and now Wyoming. Additionally, I’ve sent postcards home from Iceland, Belgium and now Quebec (a postcard I sent from Ireland is at my husband’s school).
This collection of postcards is front and center on our refrigerator, and it is far more important and meaningful than to-do lists, receipts, coupons and other scraps of paper that get stuck on the fridge every now and again. Those things get pushed to the bottoms and the sides of the refrigerator as more interesting snail mail from around the world joins our ever-growing collection.
When I have to grab a gallon of milk or pull the syrup out for waffles, when I reach for yogurt in the morning or just need to fill my cup with water from our built-in filter, I’m transported anywhere I want simply by taking a moment to glance at these postcards. We are very fortunate to be able to travel the world with just a simple trip to our kitchen.