To write or not to write? That is the question. As a couple, we’ve done letters most years but not for the last 3. My lovely wife decided to wrest the writing responsibilities from me and do one without me. “We have to let them know we are still alive.” So, this week I was folding, licking, and stamping.
Here’s some of my thoughts about those annual letters:
1. I love getting them from friends. I’ve lived in too many places and have friends (former?) I never see or talk to anymore. As a kid, my parents got letters from their college friends. I never met most of them and many were doing ministry in foreign countries. But, I enjoyed reading about their kids and what was happening. Still today, I go home for Christmas and read the cards and letters my parents get.
2. Some letters are over the top. Either its all about a tragedy or all about how fabulous the year was. Not particular realistic in presentation. But then, do I really want realistic? I don’t take pictures of my kids when they are grumpy (though I threaten to). I’d prefer the smiling angelic shot.
3. Addressing the letters reminds me of loss. We sent one to a couple who functioned as surrogate grandparents in my Vermont hometown. None to highschool friends. One to a friend made on a summer mission trip. One to a college classmate even though I had many at one time. A couple to folks we met in our tenure in Illinois and New Hampshire, my Aunts and Uncles (only one though to a cousin since I never see the others), and then my wife’s friends and family. Doing these letters reminds me of those I’ve lost touch with and that I’m not particularly good at keeping up with people.
4. Life is pretty boring if you don’t intentionally make memories as you go. We get up, relate to family, go to work, eat, come home, pay bills, and then do it all over again. It’s good to have a time of the year when we force ourselves to recall good moments, milestones from the past year. Actually, it is better to be mindful every day. Otherwise, it’s all a blur and likely filled with regret.
Musings on Faith and Psychology 