The almost lost art of writing Christmas cards

Paul, my first editor, died three or four years ago before I had a chance to say goodbye.

Cheryl died of Alzheimer's last year and for all practical purposes, her mind had passed a few years before.

I followed Steve as editor of the college paper. He lives in the Chicago area now, not far away but I never see him anymore.

Uncle Clete? I don’t even know if he’s still alive. I last saw him when his wife died five or six years ago. I’ve lost his address.

I came upon Christmas cards from those people while cleaning out a drawer of a desk I never use.

Writing Christmas cards is often a sad reminder of our lives. Lost addresses. Lost friendships.

It also offers a chance to reconnect, if not with all my old friends, at least with several of them. And with some it’s just a way to say hi.

In the past, when on the infrequent times I’ve written them, I often just signed my name. A hollow greeting perhaps but at least it said that I’m alive and remember them.

Some people who’ve sent me cards in the past have given up since I haven’t reciprocated in years.

Writing Christmas cards is an important ritual that’s been largely forgotten over the years. This season, I’ve returned to writing them.

I page through the dozens of cards my girlfriend receives and find myself fascinated.

“Who’s that?” I’ll ask? And I get a story in return.

Sometimes the cards include Christmas letters telling of the going-ons from the year before. Some people think such letters are cliché and self-indulgent.

I love them.

Especially for someone who doesn’t stay in touch, it’s a great learning experience. I learn what their kids are doing even if I’ve never met them, where people live now and recall times with them.

Because I don’t know them anymore, it’s almost like reading a novel.

I like to hear about where they’ve gone on vacation and any people or pets they’ve lost in the last year.

For someone my age, it’s always interesting to know where my peers are living—retirement village, in some vacation getaway, or still in the home I visited years ago.

Even looking at an old address list is meaningful. I don’t know where they live now, but I know where they lived decades ago.

What would happen if a sent a card to an address where people last lived but don’t anymore?

Will the people who live there now enjoy the anonymous greeting or would it just confuse them?

“Who is so and so?” they might ask.

And what happens if you send a letter to a couple who’ve broken up or lost their partner?

I’ve lost touch with a lot of people since I got divorced.

My former wife being much more attentive to such niceties probably gets more cards than I do as a result.

Facebook and Messenger have value because they’re easy, but they lack the heart of a hand-written Christmas card.

Those cards are more than a reflection of a bygone era.

They’re as important now as they’ve ever been. Maybe more so.