Dear Postal Customer,
I realize to some of you, I'm just the one that brings the bills, junk mail, and grocery flyer. The one you'd wish would skip your house most days, except of course, when I have a package full of goodies for you. Feel free to scroll right past this post, I don't mind.
But for the others, the ones who know me. Those I've chatted with by the box, that I've gotten ahead of your problems, before you even knew they existed, the ones that wave as I roll on by, this is for you.
Six years ago, I made the incredibly tough decision to switch routes for health reasons, and I was not disappointed. Over the last six years, I've watched you get married and divorced, celebrate births, first days of school, move off to college, and return home. I've watched you move out and on to new things and move your parents back home. I have watched you grieve and heal. I have celebrated every new furry friend and felt every loss as they crossed the rainbow bridge. The excited butt wiggles are the best part of the job and the hardest part to accept when they aren't greeting me at the door.
In truth, I never aspired to be killing it out there in my big white truck with flashing lights, like most of us I had other dreams, but rather fell into a twenty-year career that's helped me survive real life. Now with 2/3rds of my working years behind me, I've taken a lot of time to look at what I want the next 30 years to look like and to best do that, I need to take the opportunities as they arise. No, we didn't hit the lottery, and I can't retire early, but an opportunity to switch territory has presented itself and (after months of overthinking) I've decided to take it. Quite simply, it will allow me the ability to better take care of my family and retire when I hope to do so.
I am not going very far, you will likely see me zipping around town as per usual. It just won't be me bring your medications or cards from your great niece. I won't be the one rerouting Aunt Edna's Christmas Card that never gets correctly addressed, or fixing what FedEx and Amazon misdeliver. I won't be your frontline for problems regarding the giant clusterf*ck that is the new and improved current postal forwarding system. I won't be the one alerting you to check on your neighbors, or making sure your son lets his little brother in the house after school no matter how annoyed he is with him. I can't help you find your lost dogs, well, maybe I can still do that, it depends on how far they wander. And while I cannot guarantee it, I have done certain things to ensure you're left in the best hands, and I will be only a few feet away from them in the office for any questions or issues that will arise.
I will miss you all more than you know. And I hope when you see me buzzing by, you wave like always, or even stop to chat. Because while it's no longer going to be me, I would love it to think that, over the last six years, in just those ten seconds a every day, I made a difference to you too.