Before the barn, it was in a shack tacked onto the side of an old weatherboard house which was the home of three or four bachelor brothers.
When we moved into the area, Bob ran the post office (he was the most outgoing of all bachelor brothers). Everyone knew Bob, and Bob knew everyone. When you had to pick up a parcel, you didn't pick it up from the post office, you picked it up from Bob. At the time I was about 11 years old so I took this for granted (what? you don't pick up your parcels from a man named Bob?)
When Bob died a few years ago, notices were delivered in everyone's letterboxes along with the mail. We didn't go to the funeral, but the post office has never been the same since.
While it's been in the barn, the old building has been pulled down, and a fancy cafe and gift shop is being built on the site. I guess it's a sign that things are changing.
It will be nice to be able to pick up a chai latte only three minutes from home. Change highlights those things you didn't really appreciate for what they were worth, while they were still around. It's sad, but true. Chai lattes don't really stand on par with a post office that exudes personality from every beaten up, dusty and familiar corner.
I'm reminded to step back and attempt to re-discover all the things we take for granted, the places and people we see everyday. Rushing through life and never stopping to appreciate the details must be one of the saddest legacies ever.
My previously unappreciated little patch of Melbourne is teaching me a few things. Who would have thought!
To be continued...
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