The interesting thing is, Mom doesn't just receive these cards and messages at Christmas. She really makes an effort, and has for as long as I can remember, to stay in contact with people that she cares about. While she telephones those who are closest to her, sending cards and letters is her chosen form of communication. A few weeks ago she was telling me what was happening in the life of the woman who used to clean her house in Illinois and I was surprised that she even knew. She had written to Angie, she explained to me, and Angie had sent her a nice long letter back. Mom showed me a card she received from Elena, the home health care nurse who looked after my sister when she was sick. Elena had recently had a baby, so she sent a photo of her growing family. I was amazed that she had maintained contact with someone who had passed in and out of our lives two years ago. Mom explained to me that Elena had been a godsend to my sister with her gentle touch and compassionate words. Months after my sister had died, Elena had had her baby and Mom had sent a baby gift. From that moment they continued to keep in touch - perhaps only a birthday and Christmas card, but both still choosing to make the effort.
It really got me thinking. Back when I was a girl still living at home with my parents, I had several "pen pals." Of course this was long before computers and smart phones so there were no emails, texts or Skype. Each day's bulging mailbox was full of possibilities - who would I get a letter from today? Now, sadly, it is mostly sales circulars and junk mail that I receive. I realize that I have done a great deal to contribute to this lack of written communication in my own life. For the past few years I have pared my Christmas card list down or not sent cards at all. I barely remember to send birthday cards, and when I do, they are often hastily mailed with only an obligatory sentence or two dashed off inside, but devoid of the kind of message that would have required time and thought. And letters? Hah! I've even gotten behind in emails more often than not because my life is so busy. I've even noticed that when I write more than a paragraph in cursive, my hand hurts a little. How sad.
I miss having a stack of letters tied with a a pretty ribbon to read and re-read. I miss the excitement of posting a letter to a far-away friend or cousin, knowing that in a week or two an envelope would be waiting for me when I came home. I used to receive Christmas cards from people I hadn't seen in years and those cards were our one connection to catch up and hear what was going on in our respective lives. This year, I didn't even get a fraction of the ones I got like clockwork each year in the past.
If I am to make any resolutions for the new year, perhaps this is a good place to start. There is real beauty and goodness in the act of putting pen to paper to share our thoughts and feelings with the people in our lives. Merely taking time out of our day to do this is an implied act of thoughtfulness and care and the words themselves - well, they can be the kind of message that's appreciated and can brighten someone else's day or they can be letters that are put away to be savored over and over again throughout the years.
I remember a friend once told me that you only get out of life what you put into it. It seems to me that putting more effort into staying connected with the people in my life will be something that I will never regret spending precious minutes of my life on.
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