ok, this has nothing to do with my climb training … but maybe we can think of it as mental training :)
So I walked to the front door to pick up the mail as usual, just like any other day around the holidays. I expected the usual… Christmas cards, unsolicited advertisements, and assorted catalogs. But I found something a bit unusual today…
What I noticed in the pile was this strange little note from the Franciscan charities to the former owner of this house (who is now looking for dead – thus, why we now live here instead).
I mean, this note actually belongs to his estate – normally, I would just write “no longer resides here” and drop it back in the mail… but there was something different about this note. I didn’t know what it was, but it just seemed different. So of course I wanted to open it. Then I realized with much trepidation that opening this note would be a big mail no-no … like a felony, even.
You’re not supposed to open someone else’s mail … ESPECIALLY if it belongs to someone who is dead! How wrong is that?! Talk about disrespect to the dead! I was wracked with the emotional conflict between curiosity and morale.
You see, Norbert seemed to be a dedicated catholic… When we first bought the house, there were crucifixes everywhere, there was a huge statue of the Virgin Mary in the front yard, and a sacred heart was even embossed on the floor in the middle of the living room. No doubt these were good Christians because the proceeds from the sale of this house went to the children’s memorial hospital.
Truth be told, I’ve been touched by the history of this house and his family (as run down and crappy as is was when we first moved in). So how could I possibly open his mail now?!
Plus, I just married a man who has the strongest sense of right and wrong I’ve EVER seen … a man who glared at me for opening a pack of gum in the store before paying for it (which of course, I always do … I just wanted it right there and hadn’t finished my shopping), for making me redo whole sets of movements during a workout if he didn’t think they were perfectly legitimate, for not moving our garbage bins outside before 7:00 AM for fear of increasing the noise level for our neighbors, or for buying too many of my favorite mani/pedi Groupons … a man whose values are simultaneously a beacon for virtuosity and a source of great torment when I am at my weakest. It’s compelling but a bit annoying at the same time.
So when you pique the mind of a naturally curious and rebellious person who tends to make up her own rules from time to time (and lives under the oppression of righteousness, I’ll have you know) … you will get nothing but more curiosity… I just couldn’t help myself.
“This is so wrong…”, I thought as I tore the envelope open. Not only could I go to jail, I might (as many catholics of my time think) go to hell! What’s worse, Matt’s going to give me hell if he finds out!
But … after getting over my little crisis, I opened the little card inside. It was a pretty picture card from these little Franciscan monks thanking him for his generosity to the poor… and it would seem that it’s Norbert’s birthday as well…
OH. MY. GOLLY-GEE-WALLY… I’m definitely going to hell. I just opened the birthday card of a dead man who shares his DOB with The Big JC himself... if that isn’t something seriously sacred, then nothing is.
It’s not like getting out of opening the pack of gum by paying for it on my way out or sharing my Groupons with girlfriends who normally wouldn’t treat themselves… this was way out of my league of playing by my own rules.
But then I had an idea like my new friend, Sommer (she’s the gal who first went into Kmart a couple weeks ago and paid off the Christmas layaways of families who tried but clearly could not afford to pay off the presents for their children this year … you might know her as the “Layaway Angel” in the news. Her anonymity notwithstanding, she broke down and told me … so of course I had to go back with her and clear out more layaways on the list there and then visit a few more Kmarts. As you know, the local and national news got ahold of the story and people across the country started doing the same… which is pretty frickin awesome because the few people we helped for Christmas turned into many dozens more. Sommer most definitely made my v-v-short list of favorite people. Not only does she crossfit and have a non-conventional background, but she’s mischievously generous, smart, and nosey … qualities I cherish and display from time to time)
I digress.
So I had this idea. If I’m willing to take such a liberty in opening a dead man’s mail, I now owe it to him (and my sense of wrongdoing) to give back and make good come out of this.
But how on earth can I do this without getting caught for my awful, awful felonious and blasphemous act?! Well, you make your bed, you gotta sleep in it.
Once again, I couldn’t help myself.
I got out my checkbook, set aside a Christmas card, and sent out a donation on behalf of Norbert and his family. I also included a note apologising for the lapse in donations these past 4 years, but to expect Norbert’s ongoing generosity from now on.
Merry Christmas, Norbert. I apologise for opening your Birthday/Christmas card, but I hope I can at least help make your delightful story and legacy live on a little longer.
