Growing up one of my favorite parts of Christmas was Christmas cards. I know this might seem odd, but I loved all of the cards our family received. We had a tradition of posting the cards in our front entry way which I am quite certain my mom delegated entirely to me – most likely why I liked it so much. In the days leading up to Christmas, our mail seemed to be full of large colorful envelopes from friends all over the country. I didn’t care if I had not even the faintest idea who the sender was; it was merely another post to my creation.
This year, I have decided to recreate that tradition. The results were scarcely as exuberant as those of when I was a kid. In part, the numbers of Christmas cards I receive pales in comparison to what my family of origin received. To date, my total stands at eight but that curiously includes a card from former President Carter (and all this time I thought we had grown apart) and my landlord. Mind you this is only meant to shame my friends who don’t include me on their Christmas card list a little. My theory is married people receive more cards perhaps because, coincidingly, they are more likely to send Christmas cards. Of course, I am the ultimate hypocrite as I have never once sent out Christmas cards as an adult.
It is a very curious tradition this sending of the Christmas cards. I can’t decide if I think it is beautiful, tragic or yet another aspect of the holiday that bows to consumerism. There is something kind of reassuring, and beautiful, to know, even though the friends might live on the other side of the country, you are still on their list. At the same time, I wonder if long distance friendships eventually often deteriorate to the cursory exchange of Christmas cards. Tragically, those once intimate, become merely a name on a list. And what about the $ we all spend to bow to this tension? Do we feel obligated to send cards simply because we receive them or because we deeply want to extend season’s greetings to our respective networks?
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