Stamps

My father tore the corner off of every envelope he received and gave the stamps to me. For years I pasted the stamps into albums … until I didn’t. My father kept right on. When he died, there were dozens of shoeboxes and cigar boxes stuffed with old stamps. They weren’t worth anything but I couldn’t throw them out. I write many letters … I paste those old stamps on the back of envelopes I send … beautiful commemoratives, foreign stamps, all manner. With every personal letter, an old stamp gets one more ride, and I get one more moment with my father.