Attachments

For five years, I commuted into DC daily on the metro. Each morning as I entered the metro station, I picked up the free daily newspaper and would do the crossword on the train. 

For about a year, the newspaper distributor at my stop was a gentleman named Brian. He'd wish me a good morning as he handed out the paper, and I would thank him for the paper and head through the turnstile. He recognized me and knew my name. That year, I gave him a Christmas card. Not exactly a friendship, but a part of my daily routine that I unknowingly came to rely on and in which I found a lot of joy.

The last day of my job, I wrote Brian a card and gave it to him, letting him know that I wouldn't be commuting anymore. I thanked him for the wonderful part he'd played in my commute, and as I walked to the train, I mourned the end of my newspaper days. 

The very next day, the Metro discontinued the newspaper and all distributors lost their positions. In a single day, all ties between Brian and me were severed. I've never seen him since and I don't imagine I ever will.

It can be overwhelming to think of how many connections like this exist in my life. Attachments that feel important, and yet so small they are a single step away from breaking and being lost entirely. I'm trying to recognize them now, to savor them as they're happening.