Two years ago I stopped writing the annual Christmas letter and sending the annual Christmas card. It was a dark time for me. I just couldn’t bring myself to get it together. Last year I told myself I was being ecological. This year, although I cringe at the paper and resources I will use, I think I’m going to do it again. To psych myself up, I have Handel’s Messiah playing on iTunes and a pot of tea on the warmer. Currently hosting an eye infection, I am unable to wear my contacts, so I am hunched close to the computer screen. Waiting for inspiration. Waiting. Waiting…
I want to write a letter to share the highlights of the year, without sounding like a braggart. Just because my child may have certain gifts doesn’t mean that another child doesn’t. Where is the line between sharing joy and humility? And because we have our joy does not mean that our days are devoid of heartbreak. This week will be the third week in a row that I have attended a funeral. This is not an occasion I would like to participate in with such regularity. On the flip side, it certainly makes me grateful for the days I have with my loved ones. Much to the dismay of my children, I have been giving them extra hugs lately. A lot of extra hugs.
Mary went on a date yesterday. I confess I texted her while she was on her date. This is new territory for us, my family and me. I am quite sure I will have my missteps and faux pas as we navigate these last years from childhood to adulthood. One day at a time. She is teaching swimming and doing well in school.
Cory spent the weekend sick on the couch. He was healthy Friday night when he went to an event at school to sell coffee for the National Junior Honor Society. A cluster of moms and I stood behind them a bit and shared stories of the marvelous things our children had done to make us smile. I watched Cory chat with the girls. The girls looked so mature and sexy. Heaven help us. I watched Cory smile at the little kids requesting hot chocolate and crouching down to their level while determining whether or not they wanted marshmallows.
Charlie continues to run The Art Shoppe. The clientele is limited since it is in his bedroom. He plays piano beautifully. http://www.youtube.com/auntfun He continues to try to juggle having so many different teachers at school. He does his homework, but turning it in proves problematic.
Bruce is off singing in a friend’s music group this morning. Reuniting him with old musician friends for the first time in 7 or 8 years. He just remodeled my old home office to make it a more usable space. His heart is no longer broken and he can share his experience, strength and hope with friends who are walking the same path he did for so many years.
Just how, exactly, am I going to turn all that into a Christmas letter remains my challenge. Perhaps I will ask my family for contributions including tidbits from our annual family vacation. No doubt most stories will prove embarrassing to me, but since I edit and publish the Christmas letter…. It will all be fine.
You could write a nice Christmas blog entry in lieu of doing all that addressing and mailing. Would you be upset if I told you I hadn’t realized you didn’t send me a Christmas card last year?
Try to boil it down to one page of 14 point type. One paragraph for each kid. Don’t try to include everything that happened. Writing the letter is the easy part. All that addressing is the hard part.
Alternatively, you could just blow it off and spend the time you would have spent getting out Christmas letters serving food down at a homeless shelter instead.