Holiday time again! Shopping for gifts nobody really needs, stressing over whether you got an even number of presents for everyone, trying to find parking, and Christmas cards!
(Okay, that was a mean rant. I'm not a Scrooge. Really, Christmas is one of my favorite holidays).
Sending Christmas cards is always a dilemma for me. When I was a kid and more concerned with presents, I do remember receiving dozens of cards and they weren't the ones that are mass printed. My parents picked out each and every one, as did our friends. They meant something. Mother would tie a string of yarn across the fireplace and display our cards all season. Every time I looked at that display I remembered how many people thought of us all year.
As a young married, we received and sent the mass printed, boxed cards. They came from everybody in our sphere of knowledge - the doctor, Acme store, pastor, our government Representative, plus friends and family. I continued my mother's idea of a display over the living room archway. By this time mom and dad were in this apartment and they put theirs in a decorated Christmas basket. (David made me a copy when we moved in here).
In the 90s we began to receive this new phenomenon - the Christmas letter. I'm sure they were around before that, but no one in our circle, except missionaries, sent them. We weren't so busy up until then and we communicated with people. Didn't need a run down of their lives since last we met. I liked them. TV shows made fun of them and Dear Abby was full of dismissive letters about them. How the writers probably lied to make themselves look better. My question was this - if they didn't have a good year, or if nothing happened, why would they go to the trouble to make up, print and mail a fake letter? I still don't believe that one.
The formula was the same for everyone we knew - Dear ________ (fill in the name). Followed by some well crafted religious statement to set the tone - "Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, the Savior who came as a babe but grew up to die on the cross so we could have our sins forgiven ...." The letter would go on to list each and every possible detail of that person's life. And I mean every one. Two pages of things I would never think to ask or ever want to know. "John has been suffering from bloating for weeks but we found out it was an allergy to nuts the dog has been limping and we've given him antacids Mary Sue has had a real struggle with math this year and her legs itch Grandma's hearing has really gone downhill our beloved dog Alice died this year Ray tried basketball but was so bad at it he got thrown off the team..." Last paragraph, another super religious statement and maybe the words to a hymn. I scratch my head and wonder, why would they think anyone would want to know this insider information? Filters, anyone?
Okay, I'm being judgemental. Forgive me. I can, because I wrote a lot of those letters myself. In those days it was important to follow the straight and narrow and not make waves. I cringe when I remember. Oh Martha Jeanne, where was your good sense and creativity?
These days, I simple adore Christmas letters! They've become as original as their families of origin. One dear friend who is with the Lord this year sent photo cards every year. Her children have children and we still got those cards. One year a family we knew had a horrendous year and their letter spelled it out in painful, intimate detail. We got a letter written in round labyrinth shape, and a poem letter. One written from the perspective of the family cat. One with a photo included of a grandchild seconds from the birth canal.
I love them all. I love to know what's been going on in every body's life. I hope I do a good job and they like to get ours.
Now, about Christmas cards. They're expensive. And stamps - out of sight. We've gone through some very difficult financial years (haven't come too far since then, sadly) but we always found money for cards. I would promise myself that this year, no. Can't afford it. Then cards would come to me. "Oh, I have to send this one a card, and she would wonder what happened if we didn't send her one, and it would be an insult to forget so and so." We once sent a card to a friend who never replied and we never got the cards back. Turns out he had been dead for 10 years and his son, in whose home he had lived, just never bothered to tell us.
I agonize over the right cards. Not paintings of the Christmas story, not trite little sayings, not secular images - after all, it is my religious holiday. Something sacred but still creative. And we always manage. I take my choices very seriously.
So you'll probably get a card from Dave and Martha, and a letter. I hope it suits and you find it interesting but not cloying. We'll try to keep the intimate details to a minimum.
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