Christmas cards

Two weeks from Christmas Eve.  Christmas music on the stereo, cat on the sofa, and me.  Bent over the dining room table, filling out Christmas cards.

Yes, I know. Part of my annual tradition has become posting on this blog a short essay anguishing over whether I should still be sending cards, forcing myself to hang on to a dying tradition.  Or should I just shout out on Twitter, "Yo, dudes, merry whatever and eat lots of turkey."

But no.  This year I had no doubts.  I would send cards.

Then came the problem -- where will I get those cards?  I usually drop by the University of Washington Bookstore, and peruse tables covered with stacks of cards -- a tradition I began decades ago as a college freshman, perusing similar Christmas card displays at the Stanford Bookstore.  But what did I discover this year?  One-half of a table with a scant selection of uninspiring -- even somewhat ugly -- cards.  I recoiled, and returned home to my computer.  Surely Amazon would have oodles of cards on offer.

Well, it was better than the U Bookstore, but most of Amazon's cards didn't seem very attractive. I finally hit on one design that seemed somewhat acceptable, and ordered them.  They arrived today.  They look fine, but I've certainly had better ones in past years.  I'm certain that wonderful cards are out there, somewhere, still.  I just didn't look in the right places, or maybe I waited until too long after Thanksgiving?

But it's the thought that counts.  I have passed beyond the point of feeling awkward sending cards to people who don't reciprocate, although I do take their past instances of non-reciprocation into account in drawing up my address list.  I mean, if I don't get a card from them, I don't take it as a personal affront.  Quite possibly, they don't now and never have sent Christmas cards.  Or maybe it's been a bad year, and they just don't feel in the spirit. 

On the other hand, I've never encountered anyone who was offended by receiving a card, and it will hopefully make their Scrooge-like December a bit more cheerful.  And they hopefully will not brood, as I myself might do, at the fact that they didn't send me one -- or force themselves to send one to me next year!

As full-fledged adults, we're apt to worry too much about things, aren't we?  Things that don't call for concern.  I'll try to recall my youthful enthusiasm to simply wish everyone a wonderful Christmas, without worrying about what it all means, or how my wishes might be received.  Let's keep it simple.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!