I’ve often wondered if there is a central clearing house where people sit in little cubicles collecting email addresses for junk mail to be sent to. The amount I delete when I log on every morning is stunning. Are there really folks who read the subject line and open the email thinking, “You know, I was needing something that would give me bionic hearing.”

Honestly, how often do you need your credit report checked and how many times a year do you buy air filters. So I delete all the junk and then read the mail from people who actually know me and would say, “Hi” if we ran into each other at TJ Maxx.

I sift through notes and reminders, but one thing is missing. After Dad got his first computer several years ago, I sent him an email every night before I went to bed and he sent me one in return every morning when he got up. Now that he’s gone, so are his “Good Morning” emails.

However, for the past ten years Dad sent me notes detailing what to do when he moved on to live with Jesus. To be truthful, I didn’t read them, but printed them off and put them in my DAD file.

A few weeks ago I was digging though the file tying-up loose ends after the funeral. I found an email from Dad dated December 14, 2001:
“Dear Suzette,
Gail at the monument company said don’t ask the cemetery to do the engraving because they will charge you and arm and a leg. She said to call Dave. He will give you a better price. Love, Dad

So I Googled the monument company and gave them a call. Sure enough Gail answered the phone. I read her Dad’s email written 9 years ago. She laughed and gave me Dave’s phone number. I called Dave and he handled it from there without charging me an arm and a leg.

It made me smile because I felt like I had be sent an email from heaven.