Mandy has a wall full of postcards from all over the world.

Her office sent out a volley of postcards to young engineers who had scattered around the country, directing them to a website that had a list of job openings and a cost-of-living calculator.

The only thing is, he died—he died and he doesn’t write me postcards with exclamation points anymore; he no longer sends tidings from all parts of the globe: I’m here, I love you.