After sending Christmas cards for thirty years, this year I told Tim I was done. He didn’t hang Christmas lights, so I figured, “No lights, no cards. People just toss the cards anyway.”

In early December, I went for a run with Watson only to discover Tim up on the peak of our house on a twenty-foot extended ladder.  “What are you doing?! You’re going to kill yourself up there!” Scaring the crap out of me as he wobbled on the ladder, he looked down and replied, “I’m putting up lights.”

“Way up there! You gotta be kiddin’ me!”

Shrugging, he returned to the strand at the top of the roof. I prayed through the entire run for two things 1) For Tim to get down safely 2) For me to find a 2015 family photo. That afternoon, I placed my annual Costco order that somehow gets bigger as life gets fuller.  

So the task began. Two days that week, I was up by 3:30am handwriting addresses as I admired baby  Eileen’s boundless energy. What was I thinking not sharing the joy this child has brought to us? The Christening photo includes us all – including Jesus Christ on the cross in the background. I don’t write notes – the miracle of the full-family picture speaks for itself – we are alive, we are together,and we love you.

The addressing is an annual journey through our past as I scour four address books in thirty years for accuracy – old neighbors, childhood friends, mothers, brothers, sisters, cousins, co-workers, mentors, priests, friends’ parents, parents’ friends, past teachers, new neighbors, new friends, old friends, moved friends, and divorced friends, and deceased loved ones – each name graced with a silent God rest his soul or God rest her soul. Images flood of young children, young mothers and fathers, all struggling to do their best while remaining full of hope for a bright future. Life goes by so quickly, and each entry heightens a blessed sense of gratefulness and joy.  

Then there are the entries where I think, Who are these people? How do I know them? How did we know them? I try not to dwell on these lapses in brain function; otherwise the cards would become as frightening as hanging the lights. But why do some friends remain and others fade away?

Next year, I’m going to ask Tim to skip the lights and just help me stamp the cards. It’ll keep him off the ladder, and he can help solve the mysteries of the strangers in my address book. That way, we’ll both feel of sound mind.