Frank's Last Letter

You're bored, living the same day over and over again, until all of a sudden you're leaving the life you knew behind. One year ago, I made an impulse decision to buy a one-way ticket to Pennsylvania. I needed to leave Arizona and leave my life with Brian behind.

"Happy one year! Natalie shouts at me as she jumps up from behind the service desk. Today was December 21st, making that my one-year anniversary working as a postal office clerk. Natalie is my co-worker and one of the only people I have talked to since moving to this small town in Pennsylvania. The post office was filled with balloons; a giant gift basket was on the counter; and there was a giant sign she made that read, "Happy one year, Eleanor! You shouldn't have. I say, faking a smile. I appreciated the gesture, but I did not want to be reminded of how long I have been here, and the last thing I wanted was to be reminded of what happened last year at this time.

"You shouldn't have," mutters Frank. Oh, shut up, Frank. Why don't you just retire already? Natalie responded in anger. Frank chuckled and walked out of the post office to start his daily mail route. Frank has been the town mailman for over twenty years; he is one of the most miserable human beings I have ever met. I try to avoid interactions with Frank. I've had enough misery; I do not need Frank's too.

Time was moving slowly today; the day was dragging. The snow was coming down like pouring rain. The only vehicles on the road were the snow plows going up and down the road. The snow started stacking up higher and higher on the ground.

With three hours left of our shift, I told Natalie she could head out before the snow storm got worse. "Are you sure? She was hesitant to leave me alone. "Yes, you have kids to get home to, and you have a further drive back. I'll be fine," I assure her. Thank you; I owe you one! Natalie gathered her belongings, clocked out, and headed home.

I sat alone in the empty post office, watching the snow fall. A half hour later, Frank returned, struggling to open the front door due to the hill of snow outside. He finally squeezed through the door, completely covered from head to toe in snow. "Where'd the other one go? I told her she could leave early to get home to her family before the weather got worse," I explained. "That must be nice," Frank sighs. I'll never get why people with kids think they deserve special treatment. You do know I have been outside driving and walking around in this weather all day? You don't hear me complaining," he huffed. Actually, you're complaining right now. That is all you ever do," I snapped. "I'm going into the backroom," he storms off.

With only twenty minutes left of what felt like the longest work day of my life, I started to get my things together to leave. Frank walked out of the backroom. He looks straight out the window, and he rushes to the door in a panic. He turns around quickly towards me and says, "Have you even been paying attention to what's happening outside? Now he had me worried: "Don't tell me we are stuck. Frank attempts to open the door; he looks at me in disgust and says, Well, considering there is a block of ice almost up to the door knob, I'd say we are trapped. He leans his back into the door and slides down, not saying a word. He just sits in front of the door with his hands on his knees and his head down. I glanced over at the gift basket Natalie had brought in for me this morning. I notice the bottle of red wine in the basket, then I bring my eyes back to Frank. I take out the bottle and get two plastic cups from the break room. "Hey Frank." I set the bottle and cups on the front desk. Frank looks up and says, "Where did you get the wine? It was in that gift basket Natalie gave me. So do you like red wine or not, Frank? He doesn't respond. I fill up both cups regardless. "I'm just saying it is going to be a long night; you might as well take the edge off," I say as I set a filled cup of wine next to him.

I find myself sitting on the floor against the desk, with Frank across from me still seated in front of the door. As we both sit on the floor, sipping our wine, I break the silence. "So are you miserable because you're alone?" I ask. "Pass me the bottle." I handed over the bottle to Frank. "I wasn't always alone," he says, pouring more wine. "How did you end up alone? "Because life is cruel. You're too young to understand that yet," he grumbles at me. I stand up and say, "I am too young to understand. I am twenty-eight years old, and last year I packed my essentials and moved my life here by myself! You know why? Why have I left my hometown? Why did I leave my event planning business that I put so much time into? Why had I left my friends? My family? Everything?! How about you imagine this, Frank? Imagine setting up a pregnancy announcement for your husband. You're excited; it is the happiest you have been. Your husband is on the way home from business in England; he will be home soon. You will soon break the news to him that you're going to be starting a family together, a life, but he never arrives home. The phone rings, you're told to turn on the news, and the TV is now telling you that your husband is gone forever; his plane crashed into the bottom of the ocean. Two days later, I had a miscarriage. Now you are dead inside—no husband, no baby, and no future. I ran away; I came here, but yet every day the image of Brian imploding in the water comes to mind. The thought of what he was thinking What was he feeling as his plane was going down? So, Frank, you don't get to tell me that I don't understand!

Frank gets up and hugs me, saying, "I am so sorry, Eleanor. I would have never known. I am sorry; I probably made your day even more miserable. I haven't been the same since my wife and daughter died in a car accident six years ago. It is hard to remember that other people go through tragic situations too.

Frank and I stayed up until twelve in the morning talking about life. I have never told anyone here about Brian, not even Natalie. It felt right to share this with Frank; it felt like he understood my pain. We both eventually passed out and fell asleep on the dirty post office floor.

I woke up; it was now five in the morning. I went over to try to open the door; there was still a lot of snow, but it was now soft enough to push the door open. I went to wake up Frank to let him know the good news. I thought maybe we could get back to our houses to get some sleep in our own beds before having to come back in a few hours for our shift. Frank," I gently shook him, trying to wake him. Frank!" I said it louder. He wouldn't respond. I notice he isn't breathing. I quickly called the police. I am scared, confused, and shaking.

Emergency services show up and pronounce Frank dead. They tell me that he most likely had a heart attack in his sleep. I can't believe what I am hearing. When they took him away, I remained in the post office; I couldn't leave yet. I sat there, thinking about our conversation. He was just here, and now he is gone.

I'd like to believe this night with Frank was more of a blessing than a tragedy. I believe this night was meant to happen. Frank finally let go of his anger; he forgave himself and decided it was time to be with his wife and daughter. The last thing Frank said to me was, "Don't be angry at the world like me; let go of the pain; move on. You still have time to live a beautiful life. Goodnight Eleanor. Happy one year!