Archie

Isn’t it funny, the random things you remember? Today I was driving to celebrate a relative’s 80th birthday and something popped into my head that I had all but forgotten. I don’t know why I remembered it, but all of a sudden the memory was as clear in my head as if it had just happened yesterday.

When I was small, there was a partular day my mum and I happened to be in the front yard at the same time the postman came to deliver the mail on his bike. I was younger then, and much more personable. Inquisitive and not intimidated in the slightest, I happily started up a conversation with this postman. His name was Archie, and he soon became someone we would look forward to seeing. Every day my siblings and I would wait for the mail to arrive, and for a chance to get to have a conversation with the friendly fellow we came to consider a friend.

I remember writing him letters, and drawing him pictures. We loved Archie, who always had time for a conversarion with a bunch of chatty kids, and who never seemed to mind our questions and stories. To my tiny self, Archie – with his broad grin and friendly character – was larger than life.

One day, someone else showed up to deliver our mail. He didn’t stop to say hello, and he barely seemed to notice us at all. I was devastated, and even though I looked out for him for a while after, Archie never delivered our mail again. I don’t know whether he got a new job, or moved away, or simply got put in a different route. But for a few months there, he was a part of our little world. And today, as I was driving to catch up with extended family I’d not seen in many years, the memory of my childhood friend made me smile.

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