I miss Christmas cards.
Okay, the truth is that I receive plenty of holiday greetings in the mail each year. And I appreciate the love and good wishes that come with them. I do. Being remembered and sent a little envelope of love is only a good thing! Right?
But here’s the thing. More often than not these days, the card in the envelope is a personal photograph of some kind with the sender’s message and name printed around it. All the photos are lovely, of course. And I like to see them! But they aren’t the old-timey illustrations with sweet, sentimental, or funny messages, personally signed by the sender—and maybe with a family photo tucked inside as a bonus.
So, I miss Christmas cards. I miss the variety of holiday illustrations. I miss the little insight into personality that the chosen card delivers—and the little nod of recognition when I see it. (“Oh, yeah—that is sooo Susie!”) I miss the personal touch of a signature at the bottom—the few strokes of ink that say, “I’m thinking about you and wanted you to know it.” I just miss Christmas cards.
I know, I know—I should be grateful for the cheer in my mailbox—and I am. Really, I am. I send quite a few cards every year, and I hope they are received with warmth. In turn, I should receive each greeting that comes to me with nothing but joy.
But I miss Christmas cards.
Yeah, yeah…bah, humbug, me.
