On August 7th, 2019, my life changed forever when my sister, her boyfriend, and her best friend were all murdered in a senseless act of violence before the assailant took his own life. I can’t articulate the emptiness that it leaves inside when you lose someone so suddenly and tragically, when they are so young and vibrant and have so much to live for.
The Journey to the mailbox carries you away from the hustle and bustle of the common beach scene, far down the shore into the dunes and into the wild. The walk is long, but there are so many things to see, and even more things to ponder. I know that taking that walk with my mom during our fresh grief was like healing balm to our wounded hearts. Writing letters to my sister felt like a way to remain connected to her even though she can’t be here with us any longer.
The mailbox itself is a bit of an enigma, having been placed in 1983 by a young couple, and becoming a bit of a local legacy. The mailbox has been tended to for nearly 4 decades now by a small team of people who keep it stocked with blank journals and pens, and make sure that it withstands the weather when storms come ashore. The mailbox itself has been replaced numerous times, but the weather-beaten post is still original.
Its a perfect place to spend a contemplative and peaceful morning while watching the sunrise, or take a warm afternoon hike through the surf and sand like we did. It’s one of those places that still feels like it holds a little bit of magic, even in the busy lives we lead that often rob us of the belief in those quiet, magical places. It was definitely the thing that I needed on the warm afternoon in September.