Has the digital age brought about the demise of greeting cards? Is it really that gauche or antiquated or wasteful or silly to spend a few minutes to pick out a card, sign it, and mail it? Or are we back to the "save a tree, save the earth" rhetoric? What if I buy a card made of recycled paper, designed by the blind, with proceeds going to starving children in South America? Is it okay then? Regardless, I love getting cards, picking out cards, making cards. I even participate in helping make cards for the shut-ins in nursing homes and hospices and assisted living facilities here in our little town; when I started and wanted to know what kind of card to make, the organizer told me, "Make it a visit in an envelope." Those folks cherish their cards, read and reread them, and hang them in their rooms. If I was a shut-in, that'd be me.
You see, we grew up sending and receiving greeting cards to mark special occasions and express thanks, sympathy, congratulations. Our parents never forgot a birthday, anniversary, or Christmas, many times tucking cash or even checks in those cards. We raised our kids to write thank you notes for Christmas and birthday gifts before the wrapping paper even made it to the trash bin. As our kids grew older, we sent birthday cards, notes, and yes, we were now the ones to tuck cash and checks (and later, gift cards and iTunes cards) into the envelopes; gifts were always accompanied by a personalized card, neatly tucked under the ribbon, and at family gatherings everyone would sit and listen to the gift recipient reading each and every card before opening the gift. Prior to big holidays (Christmas, Mother's Day, and Father's Day), I would make a list of folks for whom we had to buy cards; we would spend lots of time in the greeting card aisles finding cards with just the right sentiment for each member of the family at Christmas, buying cards far in advance of everyone's birthdays so we would have them on hand and get them in the mail on time.
Yesterday was my husband's birthday--his 55th, as a matter of fact. Last month we celebrated our anniversary, Father's Day, and my birthday. Guess how many cards we received for all of these occasions, not counting the ones from each other and from our church? Yeah, not many. And yes, we adore the phone calls, the videos, and the live video chats--we would not trade those for the world! But there is just something about checking the mail and seeing a colored, hand addressed envelope with your name on it, and even better are those precious handmade, handwritten cards and notes from children and grandchildren. When we do receive them, they are proudly displayed in a prominent location for days, many times getting moved to the laundry room to hang with the grandkids' artwork. And the VERY special ones? We wrap them up and put them in the keepsake box.
Our parents loved receiving cards; when we called to wish them Merry Christmas or Happy whatever-day, they would thank us for the card, and comment on how pretty or heartfelt the card was, and it warmed my heart. My dad especially loved cards, and he would proudly display each and every one on the TV in the living room, picking them up several times and re-reading them; he would wait expectantly for a card from each of his children, then grandchildren, at those special occasions. And if one of his children did not send a card, he was crestfallen. After my dad died, I found a huge box on the top shelf of their spare closet; in it was every single greeting card my dad had received from his wife, children, and grandchildren. I cried as I looked through the box and spied cards I had sent over the years, and, realizing how much they meant to him, I was so glad I spent so much time selecting each and every one. After Alex's mom died, he retrieved boxes upon boxes filled with thousands, yes thousands, of cards and letters and postcards, some in English and some in Spanish. After almost two years of poring over each and every one, he has finally succeeded in sorting them out, sending only a fraction of them off to various family members.
All of our parents died in the last three years; maybe it is the newness of not receiving that familiar card with that instantly recognizable scrawl that makes it so disappointing when the mailbox is empty. This past Christmas was especially difficult, as it was the first one without our parents; both Alex and I could not even bring ourselves to celebrate our birthdays and anniversary last year--they just seemed hollow without the well wishes of our parents. Maybe as time goes on, we won't miss those cards so much. Maybe we will get used to FaceBook posts and video chats as the new means of heralding another special occasion. Admittedly, I have my own box of memories, and although I'm a tad more selective in what I have saved over the years--not saving every card like Dad--there are a still a substantial amount of cards and notes from children, grandchildren, and of course from the love of my life. And I am not alone; Alex has a military duffel full of letters I wrote him during his long deployment during Desert Storm--every single letter I wrote. As we get older though, we are adding fewer and fewer keepsakes to my memory box because we just are not receiving as many tangible, physical things; videos and phone calls and FaceBook posts cannot be placed in a box or slipped into a photo album. Hmmm....perhaps I will start just printing them off so as to not have decades not represented by memories and cards.
Hopefully, just hopefully, each of them will know and see and feel how much they were loved. How much they ARE loved.
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