Long Life Short Stories By Darcel Dillard-Suite
Long Life Short Stories By Darcel Dillard-Suite
What If The Best Delivery Is Slow And Human
Time to reflect on how fast shipping reshaped our days and why the most meaningful deliveries still arrive wrapped in time, scent, and care. A special delivery still has a way to warm our hearts. From grandma’s fudge to jars from our aunties and sisters, Let's make a case again for sending love with our hands, not just our clicks. In this episode we explore:
• boxes and junk mail as background noise
• memory of grandmother’s fudge as true gift
• jars, preserves, and family cooking traditions
• sisters carrying recipes and rituals forward
• the loss of hand touch in online orders
• choosing handwritten notes and cookie tins
• redefining timing as right on time, not overnight
• practical nudge to send intentional packages
Send a special delivery. Send something that shares a part of your heart in that letter or homemade box.
Hello, beautiful people, and welcome back to Long Life Short Stories where we dive into the moments that make life real life. And I'm your host, Darcelle Diller Sweet. Today I'm here to unwrap a moment, a memory, a feeling that we all may have, and that's the special feeling we get when we open up an unexpected letter or a box, a gift. I get so many deliveries these days, boxes from Amazon, boxes from all the different places that I order from, brown cartons from all over cyberspace, packed with shoes, home decor, vitamins, even a random thing I ordered in the middle of the night from God knows where. My doorstep has become a revolving door of cardboard and plastic bags and tape. And not to mention the junk mail that so many companies, I don't know how they do it, still spend millions on just to get our attention. Those cute clutterly circles and coupon mailers, they still spend so much on that stuff. Those get stuffed in my mail too. And I know in between the bills and that stuff, it's a lot of junk. But that's not really what I'm here to talk about. Let's get back to the boxes. I have to say, my boxes, online orders, are very efficient, and I'm glad we have the opportunity to do that. They're instant, and it's the modern day way, right? Especially during the pandemic, we were ordering fools. But sometimes as I slice through another box, I think about the deliveries that really mattered to me, the ones that came wrapped in care, sealed in love, and sometimes scented with a memory. I can still see my grandmother's kitchen, her counter lined with wax paper and ribbons, her hands folding fudge with those little black walnuts in it, like it was a love letter from her soul. Sometimes she'd tuck in a dish towel she didn't mind parting with. The towel itself still was warm and smelt like her kitchen. Her spirit was all up in those boxes. I used to love getting fudge from grandma. Those packages weren't about stuff either. Those were the packages about sharing, caring, and just so special to me. Maybe there are a few that you remember from a grandmother or an auntie that just made you pause every time you opened up a gift or a box from them. Well the other thing about all this is the jars, peaches, jams, jellies, shimmering like stained glass from my auntie's kitchens. I used to get jars too. Each one a sermon and sweetness, sealed with tradition, passed down from the legendary cooks in our lineage, women who stirred soul into the pot, prayer into the batter, and grace into that gravy. Those jelly jars, I have so many of those little mason jars, they came in those surprise boxes too. Later, my sisters picked up the torch, their hands carrying the same rhythm, the same recipes, the same whispered magic of the women who came before us. I get great packages, love packages from my sisters, still, thank God, in the middle of all the other clutter, every now and then I get a surprise from a sister that makes me smile. Now when I open up a box from some online order, I can't help but wonder where's the heart? Where's the hand touch? Where's that smell of compassion? I opened up a package the other day, even had a spider on it. Yuck. Maybe it's time we start sending love again. Not with a click, but with intention. A handwritten note, a cookie tin, that old fashioned fudge box, a carefully tied ribbon, a reminder that connection can still travel through the mail, not just the modem. Because the best deliveries don't arrive overnight, they arrive on right on time, when we needed that special surprise package from love. You know, those right on time back packages. They didn't always get delivered overnight. They came when they came. Slow, but they came. That is the kind of box you open with so much love and so much appreciation. So before you hit buy now, maybe think about who could use a little something real, something that carries your scent, your story, your soul, your way of wrapping, a thoughtful hug in a recipe. Because when the boxes are gone and the tape is tossed, it's that love that lingers. So just remember this. Send a special delivery. Send something that shares a part of your heart in that letter or homemade box. I'm Darcy DolorSweet, and this has been Long Life Short Stories. See you soon. Ciao.