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I found a basket of my deceased husband’s mail waiting for me a few days ago, when I came home from a week with the grandchildren, .
Bleary from a three-hour flight and a two-hour time change, I had rolled my suitcases into the garage and found, thanks to a helpful neighbor, a week’s worth of mail piled in a laundry basket.
Most of the mail was addressed to “Jonathan Newhall.” And most of it came from the charities Jon donated to when he was alive:
It came from social justice groups like the ACLU, Common Cause, the Southern Poverty Law Center, Move On and Doctors Without Borders.
It also came from science foundations like the American Association for the Advancement of Science and the Union of Concerned Scientists.
And animal charities like Best Friends Animal Society and the SPCA.
Jonathan Newhall on the Envelopes
I hadn’t even entered the house, and already I was in tears — for Jon, for the Jonathan Newhall on all those envelopes.
The letters — there were so many of them — say a lot about Jon, his thoughts, his intentions and feelings. About what made Jon Jon.
But even more consequential for me was — those letters felt like Jon was still in action, Jon’s desires were still setting themselves through all these months later.
The letters had their beginnings — years ago probably — when Jon first sat down to write those donation checks. And now Jon, in the form of the letters I was holding in my hands, was showing up in our garage, persisting.
My Deceased Husband’s Mail
I have my own charitable donation schedule. So mostly, I throw letters like these directly into the recycle bin in the garage without taking them into the house. Occasionally I’ll add some to a stack I keep in Jon’s office, so I can pay him a visit from time to time and feel those feelings of his.
Jon had strong feelings about certain things. When I first met him, it was civil rights, Watergate, the war in Vietnam. Later, if we passed a someone on the street with a petition to sign or someone asking for money, I’d avert my eyes. Jon would sign the petition and give the money.
Return to Sender?
A sensible person might choose to return as undeliverable all those letters with Jon’s name on them. Why not spare yourself the pang of getting mail addressed to a dead spouse, day in and day out?
But I like getting Jon’s mail. I like being reminded that I was married to a man who cared about science, justice — and cats.
More thoughts on philanthropy at World Hunger — Is It Up to Me to Fix It? Also, “Fifteen Patriotic Holiday Gifts for the Worried Progresssives on Your List.”
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Uncle Jon continues to inspire me and his energy pervades. I wish he could have met my cat Zeerka. They really would have loved each other.
Give Zeerka a little head scratch for Jon and me!
What a welcome home for you dear Barbara! I do get it. Your Jon was such a good person that each mail piece was simply a reminder of that.
Yes. All that mail to Jon reminds me of how engaged he was with the world, right from the time I first met him.
What a good man he was, Barbara. And I love the photo with the kitty.
He loved that cat — or any cat that happened his way.
A reminder of a wonderful, sweet man. Hope you had a great trip.
The trip to visit family, including grandchildren, was great. I hope to write something about that one of these days.
Thank you Barbara, for putting into words the feelings of loss we both still have after all these months.
I don’t know where all the tears are produced, but I think I need to drink more water. So glad you are working on another book…I’ve started playing Pickle Ball. If I could write, I would. Hug!
What a great idea — drink more water to replace those tears. Pickle ball — I hear it’s fun.