Postbox for the Dead

A few years ago, while floating in the cold Pacific Ocean with some friends, Rachel spoke the idea into existence. The next day, one of those friends returned with a fifteen-page letter. And so began Postbox for the Dead.

Rachel invited me into her cozy family home, where she has an altar framed by two windows, set up to honour the many loved ones who have passed. She tends to write words as they come, growing more comfortable transforming her relationship with death. Friends and family have passed on letters throughout the year—letters written to put feelings to rest, reach for meaning, or simply as a sweet way to connect with those gone before. 

Her daughter, Morgan, found her a beautiful metal postbox from India, where the letters are kept until they are laid to rest in the fire.

Symbolized by fire, it is believed to be the time of year when we can feel closest to our departed loved ones. The veil thins as the smoke rises. 

The ceremony around the burning is simple. The first year, Rachel was able to do it outside; last year, the weather pushed her inside to the woodstove that warms their home. She burns some mugwort along with the letters and watches the flames. 

To close the loop, Rachel produces charcoal from the fire, with the intent of using it to make an ink she can write letters with. She has tried grapevine and willow, stripping the bark and laying the pieces in a metal box with holes before placing it into the fire. Rachel has also experimented with the charcoal, adding ash to create a medium to use for watercolour-style paintings.

Last year, Rachel collected twenty letters that turned to smoke the night October rolled into November.

She knows nothing of what is written on the paper in the envelopes, but is honoured to be trusted with them. I’ll be passing on a letter this year and will think of it while I watch the flames by a fire on Hallows’ Eve.