I have been the occasional recipient of these over the decades. As I never reciprocate, they have diminished over time. The one I received today is an argument for anyone crafting the summary of their year, even or because COVID.
I have many quirks (failings) regarding social norms. Here are a few egregious examples:
I don't send Christmas cards. As a child I was part of the Slate Family Card Corporation which yearly began with an original design (entirely Dad, and a few times me), one or more silk screen stencils were cut (Dad), then the assembly line was employed. Following a successful screening (Dad) one of us kids would transfer the this product to an away place to dry. In the case of multiple color applications this last step was repeated.
Meanwhile... Mom was checking her Christmas Card list to cull non-reciprocators (applying her opaque and now unknowable standards). All year she had updated this list to include newly formed family units, address, and name changes. This was a task I never appreciated until I started to keep an address book of my own and experienced the exactitude and relentlessness of this activity.
Once the cards were completed, Mom would start signing, adding personal notes, and hand addressing an envelope, which together with the card were passed to her support staff to sign. The assembly line was then reformed to stuff, stamp, and seal the envelopes (NON-self sealing, of course.).
I think that Mom was able to off load envelope addressing for recipients who did not get a personal note. I am unsure about this, but as I wrote the details of our corporate effort I am appalled at how her support staff's efforts pale in comparison to her essential, and intrepid contributions.
I am not one to dwell on regrets for things not done, but I have one very large one: We (I) should have saved every example of our creative collaboration so I would now be in possession of this trove. And in this case (and others as my heart continues to soften) wish I had let Mom know I SAW her love in action.
I don't give Christmas gifts. Of course I did this as expected up until I had an epiphany about why Christmas season made me so miserable. Historically, it was almost entirely based on the poisonous idea that unless I can give the Perfect gift to a loved one, they will doubt that I do love them. It was in a twelve-step meeting (of similar self-sabotagers *) that I heard and adopted one person's solution: just do the stuff that you enjoy. For me that meant no more uninspired gifts on gift mandated events/dates.
One shining year I discovered the perfect gift for Dad: I ordered him a custom electric branding iron so he could "sign" his wood based furniture, frames, art, etc. Decades earlier he had designed a logo of his initials which I provided for the custom brand. I shared the gifting of this with my sibs, as they too were unable to find something he wanted and had not acquired himself. So perfect was this gift (which he retroactively employed to any earlier creation he encountered) that it pleased him annually to remember it's perfection, and we were warmed knowing we had so pleased him. Now THAT is my idea of good gift giving. When I have an idea of another gift for another loved one, I just give it. Calendar and tradition be damned. I think of myself as "sand in the gears" of routine gifting.
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In conclusion, I have pictured here a birthday card I received from one of my blog recipients. How brave that was! The cat and caption warmed this slowly thawing persona I inhabit.
May this holiday season warm your hearts, affirm our collective care for each other, and get the fuck over with already (including December birthdays).
*When I googled the term self-sabotagers to check the spelling I discovered a 12-Step program designed for the current me: Self Sabotage & Misery Addicts Anonymous. I wonder if they served cookies pre-Covid.