Strange Delivery

Dearest Rachel –

I’ve told you about mysterious deliveries that I’ve gotten at home, starting from the first few months or so after your departure. I have my suspicions as to who might’ve been responsible in one case or another, but nothing concrete to go on. However, as it turns out, I’m not the only one who gets these sorts of unexpected and unexplained little treats from time to time.

Yesterday morning saw me at the hospital, checking in on Dad for the day; I’d even arrived before Mom made it (although I lingered at home a bit longer than I meant to – some things in life never change). He’d slept well the night before, and so was in better spirits than on Sunday; it’s amazing how much difference a decent night’s sleep can do for one’s outlook.

I don’t remember what, if anything, we talked about in that first hour or two. At this point, he’s made all the arrangements for life after himself – he’s even come up with a list of individuals to enlist as pallbearers, just to give you an indication of how thorough he’s been – and anything I could tell him about my own life seems rather insignificant in light of where he’s going at this point. I will say that, like with you, I haven’t been discussing the latest news, as big as it’s been, for just that reason – although maybe I should, as he’s continued to deal with low blood pressure and talk of current events might just elevate it to where it needs to be.

In any event, as I was sitting there talking with him, a volunteer came into our room, announcing a delivery of flowers for Dad from… someone. He even presented him with a delivery confirmation card for him to sign, which he delegated to me. After a few moments of deliberation, wherein the volunteer attempted to set the bouquet on the portable arm where Dad’s personal items were stored within reach (thereby blocking our view of each other), he placed it on the counter on the opposite side from the bed, so Dad could view it from where he was lying.

Both of us were mystified by this receipt; while it wouldn’t be surprising that he would have well-wishers sending him something like this – even though he’d just been moved to this room before the weekend, word could have gotten out at church, although I would have had nothing to do with it – there was no name on the envelope indicating who it might have been. For that matter, there wasn’t anything on the card to specify that it should have been sent to Dad, either. It all seemed very strange.

So, in order to clear things up, Dad opened the envelope to read the card that had been included with the flowers. We both assumed it would be a “get-well soon” card (or maybe a “we’re thinking of/praying for you” message, given the circumstances), signed by the sender.

We were mistaken.

And this is why I had to tell you about this; it was weird enough to have a mysterious delivery show up to his room with such little notice and no identification, sure, but reading the sentiment struck us both (although me in particular) with a measure of hilarity. A floral delivery to a sickroom makes perfect sense, even given anonymously, but once we read the included sentiments, we knew it had been a mistake on somebody’s part.

Which made the signature the final punch line; this was sent by someone calling themselves “Quality Assurance” despite being delivered to the wrong room for the wrong occasion (or the wrong sentiment on the card – either way, mistakes were made). It was all just so absurd, I had to let you know about this.

Eventually, I brought it out to the nurses’ station, under the assumption that one of their number had a birthday that needed to be honored – and in fairness, the envelope actually specified the nurses’ station, as opposed to my dad or his room in particular. However, upon my explanation of the situation, the two individuals manning the area at the moment gave me looks that made it clear that they had no idea who might be celebrating a birthday that day. Chalk one more up for “Quality Assurance,” I suppose.

I had plans for another, similarly light story for you today, and I may yet get to that, but this was a little vignette that I just had to tell you about in the meantime. I realize that, where you are, there’s nothing more I could ever say or do to make your day that much brighter, but it did something for me and Dad, so I pass it along to you all the same. Keep an eye on us, honey, and wish us well; we’re going to need it.