Memories and Mailings

Chip lived by the concept of making as many new memories as possible. Whether it was climbing 4 of the world’s highest mountains with his sons, George and Henry, going to the Firefly Music Festival in Delaware with Cat, Calli, Michael and me, or taking me on a date to a new restaurant, Chip was focused on collecting memories the way some people are focused on collecting things.

I knew that coming home would be hard. I thought about putting off the inevitable for another week by traveling up to Vermont to see my brother Peter and his kids, but I was mentally drained and missed the comforts of home. With every mile I drove close to Northern Virginia yesterday afternoon, my heart got heavier and heavier.

I came home to a gigantic bag of mail that my neighbor kindly collected for us each day. Much of the mail was addressed to Chip, including several packages. Inside one of the packages addressed to him was a mug he had ordered for Henry. Chip ordered the mug from the Henry gun company, where Chip had purchased a gun for Henry as a gift for his college graduation. The mug has the name “Henry” and the phrase “Made in America. Or not made at all” printed on it. He ordered the Henry gun company mug a couple months before he died, but the mug was backordered because of COVID. The fact that the mug wasn't arriving on time was a source of frustration to Chip that he brought up often to me. Perhaps he knew he was living on borrowed time, and he wanted to make sure he was the one to send it on to Henry so that he could get Henry’s reaction to it. Opening the box and seeing the mug inside crushed me.

To add lighter fluid to the fire, I opened a FedEx mailer from Chip’s workplace. His assistant Milena was kind enough to go into his locker at the office to collect his belongings after he died. Inside the mailer was his deep blue Stio fleece (the shade of blue of the fleece looked SO good on him), a Virginia heart coffee mug, a pair of earbuds and a book about writing contracts and “what they didn’t teach you in law school.” I held each item briefly and thought about how much he depended on fleece jackets to be warm (He was down to 114 pounds near the end of his life), how much we loved drinking coffee together, how hard of hearing we both were from listening to loud music via headphones when we were younger, and how much he enjoyed his work as a contract attorney.

Just as I felt I might break down, my daughter Calli opened a mailer from France. Calli had ordered a piece of art from an artist named Camille De Cussac (@camille_de_cussac) who creates personalized illustrations. To create the illustration, Camille asked for 20 or so of my and Chip’s favorite things and activities. From the list of favorites, she created this for me…for us:

The last box I opened was one that my parents forwarded on to me. I had ordered prints from one of my favorite artists, Brian Andreas, when I was staying with them in Ohio. The Storypeople prints were supposed to be delivered to their house the day before we left for Delaware, but they arrived on the afternoon of our morning departure. Two of the prints were for me, to lift my spirits, and one was for my daughter Eva since it reminded me of her dog Franklin, who we believe is part Chihuahua. Here are photos of the 2 framed prints I ordered for myself:

And then, there were the non-package type mailings that I couldn’t bring myself to open or dispose of so late at night since I was spent. There were many envelopes addressed to Chip…his AAA renewal packet, thick envelopes from his bank and solicitations from the Susan B. Anthony List Candidate Fund, President Trump’s re-election campaign and The Heritage Foundation. There were bills addressed to him as the account holder from our utility companies with the phrase "final bill" printed on the envelope (I wish there were a better way for companies to handle this after the account owner has passed). There were about 10 catalogs (Chip loved online shopping and he was seemingly on every catalog list in America!) and plenty of junk mail addressed to him. There were sympathy cards addressed to me as well as mailings addressed to me from benefits groups from his workplace and from Social Security. There was the mailing from USAA, his car insruance company, which was addressed to “The Estate of Lammot Copeland,” a phrase that brought tears to my eyes seeing that he was now reduced to being labeled as “The Estate of…” rather than by his given name or his nickname.

After writing this blog post, I will sit at our dining room table and pour through all of the mail for him and for me, and recycle that which is not to be kept. The dining room table and chairs are new (they arrived on July 1st, the day before we began our July travels without him). Chip and I ordered the table and chairs in early March, and they were supposed to arrive by May 25th. While awaiting the custom-made furniture built by a company called Gat Creek in West Virginia, we envisioned so many holiday family gatherings at the table that seats 14 comfortably. Sadly, the COVID lockdown delayed production by over a month, long after Chip would have ever had the chance to sit at the table. He would have loved sitting here with me and any others who were present at any given time, enjoying the food, looking out at nature surrounding us, and making memories.

There will always be a place for Chip at our table. We will make memories without him, but he will always be remembered.