Written Tradition
Today we continue our Holiday Season Extravaganza. Between now and December 25, we will share what it means to celebrate the holidays — Life in Pencil style.
Posted by Elizabeth
I have always been of the opinion that we should choose the holiday traditions we love most and leave the rest behind. For example, I would rather scratch my eyes out than participate in any sort of commerce on Black Friday; see an amateur production of The Nutcracker; make my own holiday cards; bake a fruitcake; host a giant holiday party; decorate my house to the nines; string Christmas lights on my house; go to any sort of a parade that isn’t small, hometown, and slightly campy; or watch any of the claymation holiday specials on television. I also know that there are readers out there from whom it wouldn’t feel like Christmas without watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer circa 1964 on CBS. I am not a Grinch, I promise you, for there are a slew of traditions I feel called to resurrect year after year. And at the top of that list is writing holiday cards.
This, I realize, is one holiday tradition that most people could live without, an obligation rather than a joy. But my excitement is palpable when the cards hit the display shelves at my favorite paper store in October, and I have to physically restrain myself from buying the whole lot before Halloween. A certain amount of ritual is involved in invoking this tradition and, before anything can be purchased, I carefully prepare my list, determining who will receive a card based on a complicated equation of geographic proximity, years known, depth of relationship, and reciprocity. For example, if you are a high school friend who lives on the East Coast, who I rarely see but love to stay in touch with, you are likely to receive a card from me. If you live in Albuquerque and I see you with any degree of regularity, you’re probably going to have to move away before you receive a card. Sorry.
In the past, I was vehemently opposed to writing Christmas letters, which I considered to be a soulless affair, the work of lazy card writers. Instead, I carefully penned each card, personalizing my message to the recipient, a time-consuming process that usually carried me through to Christmas Eve. One year, however, I discovered I had a great deal to say, and I wrote my own version of the holiday letter. Unable to bring myself to call it a letter, I dubbed it my “holiday missive,” whose form lies somewhere between a letter and an essay. I spend the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving crafting my missive, ensuring its content balances reporting and storytelling, specificity and generality, its tone both uplifting and self-deprecating. Approached in the proper spirit, I have discovered the particularly soulful aspect of writing my letter; rather than an attempt to reach a sheer volume of people with the least amount of effort possible, it is an opportunity to share my life through the creative medium I love best.
The day after Thanksgiving I set up a station at my writing desk, not unlike Santa’s Workshop, a holiday fixture where I assemble the cards. Unable to give up the tradition of card writing altogether, I tuck the missive into the card, making sure I write a personal message in each one, a little walk down memory lane. Between the cards, the copying cost, and postage, I estimate that I spend about $100 on Christmas card writing each year. This will strike many as a ludicrous waste of money. But the thing about traditions is that they often don’t make a whole heck of a lot of sense. I think we gravitate towards traditions that reflect something about us as a person, that feed a part of our soul. As a lifelong letter writer, Christmas cards are but one more means to keep in touch via the written word. There are people on my Christmas card list who I only connect with once a year, but I can’t imagine not sending them a card. As someone who has moved with startling regularity during my adult life, it’s a way to reconnect with the lives I’ve left behind. When I shuffle the addressed envelopes in my hand, I see a pastiche of my life: my childhood in the suburbs, my college life in Seattle, my brief stint in Oregon, two tries at graduate school in two different states, my first adult home in New Mexico, my travels around the globe. For me, writing Christmas cards keep me connected to my past. And in some small way, isn’t that what all holiday traditions do?
Do you enjoy writing holiday cards, or loathe it? Do you believe in holiday newsletters, or are you opposed to them? What is the number one holiday tradition that you can’t live without?
November 30th, 2009 at 8:00 am
I used to love writing individual Christmas cards, but eventually, that became impossible. And while I always read the Christmas letters we receive, they can be too wordy…if not boring and/or absurd. So what to do?
One year we hit upon the perfect solution, and it is now our absolute tradition. We produce a photo-and-caption card, showing a handful of scenes from the previous year, with informative/funny descriptions. Luckily for us, many of our friends are designers, and we’ve had some beautiful graphics created for this project. When the boys were little, the card always contained a Christmas tree drawn by one of them….sniff, they are now too old for this!
November 30th, 2009 at 8:20 am
I love this idea, Jennifer! Thanks for sharing. I’m always looking for new ways to reinvent the tradition of staying in touch during the holiday season.
November 30th, 2009 at 8:49 am
I have only discovered my love of Christmas cards over the past few years; since becoming a mom. Maybe I have a bit more joy to share, or maybe because I’m now officially a grown-up.
Each year, the card creating consumes a good, solid week. I love hand-making cards, but feel the need to go above and beyond the card from the previous years. I’m sure the day will come when I throw in the towel and go traditional, but for now I enjoy the process of finding the winning idea. And this year, easily tops them all!
November 30th, 2009 at 11:04 am
I was disappointed by the Christmas card selection yesterday. I wanted something that either had great artwork, was humorous, or regional. I found an Oregon adaptation to the 12 Days of Christmas, but it didn’t quite work for a vegan to send out with some of the lines being “eight maids a milking goats,” or “three free-range hens.” Then I saw a stand with unicef cards and there was one with bright artwork, which appealed to my love of the world and different cultures. I was still feeling a bit let down and then, this morning, I realized how fitting it is for many of the new friends I’ve made this past year and their mission to make the world a better place for all people. I think the card picked me this year.
November 30th, 2009 at 3:50 pm
I actually love writing cards…but I begin to hate it when I don’t have the time to dedicate that I want. It’s like thank-you notes…when I write one, I want it to be GOOD. I have such a conflicted relationship with holiday newsletters. It all hinges on the tone. If it borders on bragging, I tune out. If it’s happily newsy and REAL, I love it.
December 1st, 2009 at 5:53 am
I love writing cards and letters but, alas, cannot write all the letters I want and tailor them to the recipient. I do a letter of sorts on the printer and make my cards. The card layout is on my to-do list for today.
December 1st, 2009 at 8:11 am
I love christmas cards. Unfortunatly my list seems to keep growing and I never have enough time. So there are years we do a letter and there are some years that it is a picture with a Merry Christmas and love the Jobes, but I do try to update everyone that we don’t see that often.
December 3rd, 2009 at 11:06 am
I hesitate to do a Christmas newsletter now on the grounds that it sounds like most people could give a crap about them. This makes me sad (and a little nerves about what people thought of my newsletters before).
Oh well! Who cares what the masses think of my newsletters. I like doing them and my hand writing stinks so don’t expect them to be hand written either. If you don’t like it tough, you can always use it for kindling.
December 4th, 2009 at 10:15 pm
Tonight I realized that receiving Liz’s holiday letters has truly become a new tradition during a season that, for me, has becoming increasingly disappointing over the years. I don’t reciprocate in kind, I’d like to think I earned my fair share of Liz correspondence during her tenure in Eugene, when I sent her postcard upon postcard on account of…well…just ’cause.
At any rate, thank you for sharing the process behind your letters, and for what it’s worth, I think this year’s was one of the best yet.
December 5th, 2009 at 7:40 am
You’re sweet, Mary. I appreciate you recognizing the time and effort I put into those letters; they really are a labor of love for the PEOPLE I love. And I will NEVER forget all the postcards you sent me in Eugene, bringing light to my day during a particularly dark period of my life.