The Annual Ritual of Sending and Receiving Christmas Letters and Cards

Post date: Dec 27, 2015 3:43:34 AM

Blog post for the week of Dec. 26

I wrapped up the fall semester Friday, Dec. 18, with some clean up at the office on Monday, Dec. 20th. Getting grades done for five classes is no quick process: it involves many hours of reading final papers, grading final tests, and recording all of those points before assigning final grades, which are now reported online. It is a familiar ritual and my friends and family know that I will go into a burst of holiday activity only once grades are done, giving me just a few days to pull off Christmas! My annual holiday letter and cards never go out before Finals: it is the life of a writing teacher, and it will be interesting to reflect on the difference retirement makes this time next year.

With each passing year, fewer of us send out cards and letters. Having moved, I thought it was important this year to continue with the tradition, if for no other reason than to let people know we had moved, give them our new address and provide a brief update about our lives.

We had some family photos taken in September, so I had copies of those pictures to enclose. By the time I had written a letter and tucked it into the card, however, I realized that our cards would need additional postage. Even so, it was a very satisfying feeling to make two trips to Hyvee with a bundle of completed cards to mail.

It was a bittersweet experience updating the address list this past week, and for the first Christmas, not have a living parent on our Christmas card list when just two years ago we each had a living parent. I also lost a dear friend from childhood in November; Darla and I grew up together, and our children were friends. She died from ALS, having lived with it for much longer than predicted. She was a skilled sign language interpreter who spent a number of years working in the school system and then for a private Social Services agency; she also loved the holidays and made fabulous gingerbread houses. Hers was often the first Christmas card I got in the mail--but not this year. As I reflected, I thought about the many wonderful people who I have lost over the past year, such as my mother-in-law Jane, as well as those who I lost touch with over the years through moves and job changes.

Making some sun tea today, I opened up a package of Bigelow’s Constant Comment and that wonderful aroma of black tea, spices and oranges took me back to my days living in Rhode Island as a young minister’s wife. We had a young college student named Linda who stayed with us for a couple of semesters: Mikki was a baby and Linda was a nursing student at Salve Regina, and a lot of help. She introduced me to Constant Comment tea and it is something I have had in my pantry ever since.

I worked full time at the Newport Public Library for five years, until Mikki was born; I was a catalog clerk, working down in the basement, where I typed up the cards for the card catalog, covered book jackets, and prepared the books to be checked out. My boss, Shirley, was an authentic New Englander: she had a very wry sense of humor, lived on Jamestown island, and entertained me with stories about her family and career.

I think of all of the military wives I got to know while we lived in Newport: they came to our little church, volunteered, became friends, and then were transferred to another duty station. Several became especially close friends: Edy had a little boy named Chris who played with my daughter Mikki, sometimes with messy consequences, as I recall. Luz served as our church secretary and was a bundle of energy, faith and humor; she had twins and followed her husband to their next deployment. Robin and John, another wonderful Navy couple, lived with us for a few months while their housing assignment got sorted out. First they parked their motorhome in our driveway: soon we encouraged them to move in, since we had four bedrooms upstairs. Those bedrooms housed so many guests: visiting missionaries, several foster children, my parents, my in-laws, my sister and her family, and other visitors. We also had a friend, Sandy, who stayed with us for a summer while she did an internship in the church.

We also made friends with other area ministers, including Joe and Judy in Fall River, Massachusetts, just across the high Narragansett Bridge. They were a friendly couple, with several children, and we enjoyed their company. John and Joyce, another couple, pastored a church in Providence; when my son was born prematurely, they gave me a place to stay near the hospital. My mother flew out to care for Mikki and I spent several months living with my friends in Providence, spending my days at the hospital where I pumped milk, kept a journal and got to know the nurses and doctors as I sat beside Danny’s isolette.

Back in Marshalltown, I got to know a group of young single and married moms: one was the mother of my daughter’s friend, while I met several others working with a local social services agency that got a grant to serve women. Others I met through the local Y’s Singles group or at the local Community college, or the church where my first husband served as the Assistant Pastor. I’ve kept in touch with a few but lost track of others, including a sweet young woman named Mary whose two children were her top priority.

I’ve made many friends at Hawkeye Community College over the past twenty plus years: a few were adjuncts and left for full time jobs elsewhere or moved away when spouses got new jobs. Others retired, changed careers, or were fired. In spite of good intentions, we lost track of each other.

Sadly, all of us probably have a list of people we cannot send a Christmas card to because they have either passed on, or are no longer in our lives. For those who have passed on before us—we miss you and the holidays are not the same. However, we have memories of our Christmases with you in past years, and feel so blessed that you were part of our lives. For all of those who we have simply lost contact with, peace and love go out into the universe for you. We hope your holidays are happy, even if we do not have a way to contact you.

May we learn to appreciate those who are in our lives now and not take them for granted!

Last updated December 26, 2015