Mail Call

In the end of November, everything still feels possible. I just might write and mail Christmas cards this year, instead of scribbling out a half-dozen notes at the last minute and tucking them in with the presents.

I'm old enough to remember what a thrill it was to get stacks of Christmas Cards in the mail every December. My mother took all the ones we received and carefully attached them to a thick ribbon that framed one of the living room doors. If so many cards came that we had to employ a second door before Christmas Day, it was just further proof to the world of how many new friends we had acquired in the last 12-months.

The truth was, you could learn a lot of news about a family just by the signature on the cards---who was added, or who was left out. Someone died? Someone got married? If they got a puppy or a kitten--it was all included in the pictures on those cards. I remember being puzzled at the ones that arrived with names I didn't recognize--old friends of my parents that only wrote that one faithful note, once a year. My favorites were the pre-printed ones: "From the Smith Family." For some reason, those seemed like they came straight from the lap of luxury--outdone only by those that had printed names AND embossed return addresses. (I'd add that my other favorites were the ones whose covers shined with sparkly glitter that always ended up on my hands, but I guess that would really date me...)

It's funny how much care people took to send those greetings every year. As a kid, I remember my mom would pay me to handwrite ours. (She always said it was because she had bad penmanship, but as I got old enough to know what "Christmas Rush" meant, I figured it out.) I remember days of mailing fruitcakes to my cousin fighting in Vietnam,(would have made excellent weapons if they ran low,) and packages with knitted scarves to my relatives across country. Of course, postage was only four to five cents per card, back then, but it wasn't really about the money, even though we say it is. What it was really was about, was the time.

This year, I'll try again to write and mail Christmas Cards. Sure, I can e-mail, twitter, skype and IM my greetings in seconds, for free, no less. But it never seems the same. There's just something about tearing open that envelope---especially when the glitter sprinkles out.