Carded for Christmas?
The trips to Target are coming almost daily now. I’m in there so often, I notice if they add a new variety of apple, or a new style of sweater that doesn’t assume I’m a 6-foot, 75-pound, 14-year-old.
So I was in the other day, buying yet another 9 feet of pre-lit, artificial garland (there was a tiny corner of my hall that had somehow escaped being decked), when my eye fell upon the wall of Christmas cards. So many pretty designs, some plain, some sparkly, some humorous ones with dogs in Santa hats, others more reverent – stars, manger scenes, that kind of thing.
Almost without thinking, I picked out a few boxes. I had them in my arms, ready to toss in the big red cart. Then I remembered the other boxes I already had at home – those papery ghosts of Christmases past loitering on my shelves, bought with the best intentions but not sent.
This has happened for several years in a row now. I used to be so good. When Tom and I were DINKs (double-income, no kids), I sent the cards – at least 75-80 every year.
Even when our son and daughter were tiny, the card thing happened. We’d go to the Kid’s Corner store in Leesburg’s Virginia Village shopping center, and get a photo taken amid the lights and garlands and old-style toys. Of course, this was back when they didn’t mind getting their picture taken, and they’d wear the dainty dress with the tulle skirt underlay and the velvet and wool lederhosen (yes, Lord help me, I said lederhosen). What with purchasing the clothes and the photos, this was not a cheap proposition. But the pictures were beautiful.
They would be lovingly tucked into a color-coordinated card, the frame kind with the seasonal message inside. I’d add a few personal sentiments, slide it into a hand-addressed, stamped envelope, repeat the process another 80 times or so, and we’d be off to the races.
This has not happened in a while. We did go through a phase of kids-with-dogs photos. We even had these done professionally, through the local PetSmart. This was great, until the year that the dachshund, the sheltie and the Black Lab broke free and ran out the store and into the parking lot, the whole Allen family running Three Stooges-style after them. Good times. We did the kids-with-dogs photo at home the next Christmas.
But the last few years, even that small gesture has eluded us. The reasons are legion. The kids are teenagers now, and less patient with the photo-taking rigamarole. I’ve become busier with stuff outside the house and haven’t kept up with new addresses for old friends. My handwriting is truly deplorable and, it seems, getting worse each year. Maybe the constant tapping on my trusty old keyboard is to blame. I don’t know.
For sure, e-mail has played a part, but this is mostly a good thing. Folks I used to touch base with on the phone or by mail only occasionally are regular correspondents now. If I see or hear something cool or maddening, or have some good – or sad – news to share, a few clicks of the mouse pass it along to anyone I like. You gotta love that.
It’s perhaps unfair that we still get some Christmas cards when we haven’t sent them out in so long. I have to admit I do love them, and am truly glad some folks still care enough to send the very best.
The ephemeral nature of Internet greetings will never match the special warmth of a handwritten message or the feel of glossy paper and the little white sparkles that come off on your hands when you open your card … a little magic of the season in card form.
Whatever you’re doing and however you keep in touch with your loved ones, have a safe, joyous and peaceful holiday season!
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