It’s the holiday season, a time when I run to the mailbox knowing there’s a slightly higher chance of receiving a personal greeting amidst the numerous bills. I love holiday cards–regardless of whether or not there’s a personal note or a typewritten “year in summary” note. (This year, as I read the “year in summary” letters and the “How did your year go?” I winced–there are things that happened this year that I could never write in a “cheery” year end summary, no matter how I spin them).
It is a good time to remember and be remembered, to reach out and connect. Many of these relationships hang on this once-a-year postal exchange. Without the holiday cards, I fear we would entirely disconnect and be sent out into the ether.
In addition to the holiday cards are rejection letters and cards returned to sender. It’s a mixed array of mail, a pile that sends me into spikes and troughs each day. At no other time of the year does postal mail become such an emotional event, day to day.
I think it’s time to shake the fog of holiday vacation from my head and start writing again. It’s the only cure.