This summer I sent off two packages to two important women in my life. Kyla and Melissa were both in my wedding two years earlier, and have both been great friends for a long time. They both had their second babies earlier this year, and I had made a quilt and a sweater for each baby. One went to Washington, D.C., about 180 miles away, and one went to Washington state, 2700 miles away. A couple days later, Kyla texted a thank-you, and I waited to hear from Melissa. I met her beautiful baby in August and asked about the package—she told me she never got one.
My heart sank and I was overcome with sadness and anger. I had paid for the postage with cash and had not gotten a tracking number, even though it was shipped Priority Mail. There was nothing I could do. A couple weeks later, I sent Melissa pictures of the sweater and quilt, because I wanted her to see what I’d made for her little one. A quilter and crafter herself, I knew she would appreciate the work and figured she was sad that it was missing, too.
It almost seems like every time I turn around I learn of another cousin or friend who’s having a baby. I like making itty bitty hats and sweaters and blankets and quilts. Most of my local friends are done having babies, so any baby gift I make will have to go elsewhere. It’s been hard to start something new since this one went missing—why would I put hours into making something when it possibly won’t end up in the hands of the loved ones I made it for?
If you’ve read this far, and if you paid attention to the post’s title, you probably suspect that this isn’t the end of the story. And you’d be correct. Along with a package containing Christmas presents from my parents, the package destined for Washington state ended up on my front steps last week.The USPS had marked it “NMR” or no mail receptacle. Melissa and her family live in a town of about 6000 and and I’m a bit surprised that the postal clerks and postmaster or -mistress were not able to find the address. The small mistake I made was omitting the NE from the street address.
Nevertheless, I’m going to send it back to Washington, to the exact address. I will pay by credit card and I will hold close the tracking number until it arrives. And as I’ve seen photos of the other baby with his sweater and quilt, I look forward to seeing this baby snuggled in hers.