One thousand Christmas Cards

In 1843, Sir Henry Cole had recently helped to set up what would become the Postal System in the UK and was looking for a way to increase use of the service, especially by ordinary people. He and an artist friend, John Horsley, designed and produced the first Christmas card. They printed and sold around 1,000 of these cards.

Sometimes I feel like I have bought and mailed 1,000 cards each year.

Every year, I think to myself, maybe I won’t send out cards this year. Maybe I’ll do something more creative (and cheaper) on Facebook or email. Then I also wonder if I should write the Christmas letter. You know, the letter that some people send out with their cards recapping their year (as if everyone hasn’t followed everyone else’s every move on social media).

And every year, just about the time that I decide to nix it all, my competitive nature kicks in. Hubby and I each have our lists of people we send cards to – we have it divided pretty much in half, between his friends and relatives and mine. By gum, if he’s going to mail out cards to his list, I’m going to mail them to mine. And before he does.

This year I failed at that miserably. He wrote out all his cards and mailed them in one day last week, while I was still debating the whole situation. So one night shortly after that, some time after midnight, I crawled out of bed and typed up my Christmas letter. I had a busy weekend, but fully intended to address my cards on Sunday evening. That didn’t happen, instead, when I couldn’t sleep, I crawled out of bed at 2:30 Monday morning and addressed them all.

Is this what Christmas is all about? Sharing joy and cheer at the cost of several nights’ sleep? Probably not, but if you didn't get a Christmas card from me this year, don’t think I didn’t try. It’s anybody’s guess what I actually wrote on some of those envelopes in the middle of the night. 

In case you didn't get the 'Christmas letter', here it is. 

Here we are, another Christmas season. And once again I have been debating over the last month as to whether or not to send out a Christmas letter.

2017 was not a good year. Nope, not good at all. You probably know most of it – not only losing Mom in February, but a long list of other friends and relatives. I also spent more time in the ER and at doctor’s appointments for myself than I ever have. Hubby, too.

I keep things in perspective, though. None of our ailments have been life-threatening, we are both still gainfully employed, and we have the money (and the insurance) to pay those medical bills.

Mom is in a better place; she is no longer suffering. Even though her death seemed to come on quite suddenly, in and out of the hospital and nursing home over just one month, when I look at pictures of her from the last few years, I can imagine the suffering she had been silently going through for a long time.

All those other friends and relatives? Some of them were suffering too, struggling for years with pain and disability, or just plain had reached the end of a long and productive life. A few, however, died way too young and leave us questioning what God is thinking at times.

My kids remain healthy, at least. Nick is still at the same job for the last five years, I believe. He keeps talking about wanting something else, but hasn’t made much of an effort.

Val lost her job in November, but considers it a blessing as now she has the motivation to look for something else, and try to get out of the food service industry. The pay has been good for her, but there are no benefits and the hours stink when you work at a restaurant. Her husband is still working in that industry, but is hoping to cut back his hours so they can spend more time together working on their house.

I went to Kenya with Val in April. We had a successful trip, working on a rabbit project at the school we’ve been working with there. She and Nick are talking about returning in the Spring, but haven’t made definite plans yet. I’d like to go back next Fall, to do a medical outreach and I will begin working on that soon.

I am still at the clinic in town. In June it will be 30 years that I have been with the same organization – or at least I haven’t gone anywhere else, even though the organization has changed hands or merged several times in those years.

Himey is still at Lincoln Hills, but is talking about retiring in 2018. It is so stressful there, as you may be able to imagine, especially if you listen to the local news (which doesn’t even come close to telling the truth about what goes on there).

My novel, “Where the Sky Meets the Sand”, finally was published. It was supposed to be out sometime in the late Spring, but took until September to be released. That delay added to my long list of stress for the year, but along with everything else, I try to keep that in perspective.

If you haven’t read the book, you can order it from Amazon.com or Barnes and Noble, or let me know and I can send you a signed copy. I am also anxiously waiting for more reviews of it. I’d appreciate any help I can get in spreading the word.

In November I finished writing my second novel. I hope to edit it in the next months and get that published within the year.

Umm, I guess that’s about it. Dino and our four cats are still doing well, as are my three grandpuppies. 

Mostly, I am looking forward to a better 2018. And wishing you a good year as well.