Hallmark Moments

It has started. Your mailbox is clogged every day with Christmas and holiday greetings. Some of them from people you haven't seen in years. It's an annual excuse for a touchstone that really is important.

I would never think about going through a December holiday season without sending cards. When I started getting those family newsletters a few years ago, I sort of felt like we were headed into the "Too Much Information" aisle of life's supermarket. After all, I'm not really anxious to know that Fido got worms after eating from the neighbor's Labor Day garbage. Now, if your son or daughter got worms the same way, I'm absolutely a buyer for that newsletter.

About six years ago, I started doing what I call an "anti-newsletter." It was supposed to be a one time parody, but too many people enjoyed it so I kept it up on subsequent holidays. This year, I truncated it a bit because, frankly, I creatively vomit here on this blog too much as it is. I am simply sending along this link and telling everybody to do some happy reading. But, I digress...

I remember when I was a kid. My grandmother couldn't read or write, but still liked me to write out her Christmas cards. This became an annual ritual. She would pull out this address book which she probably bought with ration stamps in 1943. And, then, we would go over every single address as she would then relate some anecedotal story about the person. The tales never changed. But, this was my own personal version of "A Charlie Brown Christmas." The script never changed. The interesting thing is that most of the folks in my grandmother's address book were unknown quantities to me. They were all people she knew from years ago. Some of them came over to America on the boat with her. They lived in such faraway places as Michigan and Maryland and Staten Island. I doubt my grandmother had seen any of them in 20 or 30 years. But, they got a Christmas card from her every year. And they sent back.

Of course, this annual ritual also had the same beginning every year as well. It would start with this short exchange.

Grandma: "I don't think I'm going to send any cards this year. It's too much trouble."

Me: "If you don't send a card, all these people are going to think you're dead."

A short pause.

Grandma: "Okay, let's send."

We repeated that same scene year after year.

The Christmas after my grandmother died, I still sent all those people a card. With a short note telling them how much they had enriched my grandmother's life.

And that was the last time we heard back from any of them.

Dinner last night: Sausage and peppers from Earth Wind and Flour---back in LA.