I’ve noticed that advertising for Christmas begins earlier every year. The tradition was to hold off the season until after Remembrance Day. There used to be a public outcry otherwise. It was regarded as extremely disrespectful to those who gave the ultimate sacrifice, disregarding the pain of the veterans and their families.
I believe this fall there were already Christmas commercials before Thanksgiving. The trend must have filtered through to me because I’ve already begun my Christmas letters.
I know that writing letters and cards has become a thing of the past for most. Very few of my friends still put pen to paper, craft a well-constructed sentence, a few catchy phrases or take time to reminisce. They just aren’t interested. Some do send me friend requests but I have to admit I’m just not all that interested in technology.
Mom used to have a lengthy Christmas card list. She produced a handwritten missive and then had the church secretary photocopy it for her. Each one received a little more attention, with personal anecdotes added prior to posting.
She was organized and methodical when it came to her writing. All the U.S. recipient letters went out by the end of November. Next she toiled over the Ontario ones, then B.C. The pack for Alberta friends received equal treatment, perhaps a little more as she didn’t feel the need to rush.
I learned to follow her method. It worked very well. Mom may have had over 40 letters to send. I had 25 or so initially. When I took over mom’s list for her, it decreased quickly. If I received no reply for more than two years running, I stopped sending. As mom wasn’t able to write, many of her friends weren’t either. Some had moved and did not forward a new address.
I had the same experience with my own friends. Several have moved many times and ceased writing. I say hello on Facebook and that’s about all I get. One friend I’ve known since grade school. She used to write in January, after the rush was over. The last two years she called midsummer after she received her birthday card, to apologize and confess that she too doesn’t write anymore.
I have several friends like that; they call only every six months but I know that they need a good long time to talk. I don’t care to spend a lot of time on the phone but I can do that for my friends.
When I went through the few boxed things left from mom’s collectibles I discovered some treasured letters. We copied one sent to our Grandpa Reist from his mother in the early 1900s. She encouraged her son to keep his faith in God strong, to live a moral life. We also found a birthday card written to Mom from her maternal grandmother Lucinda Good. Mom was a child and her grandma wrote to encourage her.
I wish I had kept letters over the decades. I wrote every Sunday afternoon and received many in return. I began storing them only in the last few years but that was almost too late. I have several shoeboxes stuffed with cards and letters. When I have a quiet interlude, I enjoy rereading the greetings and memories. It refreshes me to think of the many years of friendship.
One friend and I share a common interest in mystery novels. We recommend authors that we particularly enjoy. Doris was my supervisor in the public library in Peace River. She’s been in Calgary for years and yet we both have fond recollections of our time in the north.
She is alone now and struggles to keep everything organized and up to date. She likes the beauty of Christmas, the sacred music, the season of Advent, the decorations. It is harder to produce what was always so important to her. She too may have to start earlier or let some of her traditions go by the wayside.
- Hoey is a longtime Gazette columnist
