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The (Nearly) Lost Art of Sending Greeting Cards
There’s a time-honored tradition that I haven’t found much time for in my life. While I have always enjoyed receiving cards, I haven’t been very good at sending them. This is a shame, I know. But like too many people, I have been running my legs off on the treadmill of life, sometimes to the neglect of life’s more important tasks. This is in contrast to a dear great aunt of mine. I could always count on “Gigi” to send birthday cards right on time, and Christmas cards too. Each card had a sweet note—and a crisp dollar bill-inside. I heard she went to the bank special to get those new dollar bills. Gigi had no children of her own, so she adopted her sister’s four children and sixteen grandchildren wholeheartedly. She had a number of other great-nieces and nephews from her husband’s side to send to as well, and she sent cards to every one. There was a system to Gigi’s card-sending, too. Up until the time you got married, there was a dollar in every card. Once you got married, the dollars stopped but the cards continued. I always admired how Gigi sent carts. That’s the kind of aunt I wanted to be. And Gigi never failed, right to the end. She passed away while in her eighties, while on her way to church. The day after Gigi died was my birthday. I was still wrapped in my sadness that she was gone, when suddenly it hit me: there might be a card in the mail. I opened the post office box with trembling hand—and there it was—one more envelope in the familiar handwriting, postmarked from Louisville, Kentucky. The last birthday card that Gigi ever sent. I still have that card. It’s a reminder to me of that personal touch I want to extend more often. Sending cards has gotten easier these days, what with computerized reminders and card-sending services, etc. I still have a file full of cards I never sent, but with the aid of my computer, that file shouldn’t grow any fatter. It bothers me a bit not to have each card written in my handwriting—even though I use a computerized handwriting font that really is my own. But there is warmth in the words I write, and the joy of keeping in touch when otherwise I might not have. They say it’s the thought that counts, and there’s plenty of thought in each of my cards. I wish Gigi was here to know that I’m now sharing some of the sunshine she sent my way. She would be proud. Copyright 2006 Cari Haus
This article was posted on March 20, 2006
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