Christmas Cards And Letters No More

Growing up, my parents kept a list of friends they would write once a year, at Christmas.  These included friends from prior “tours of duty” in the Navy, former neighbors, distant family and a smattering of current relationships.

The ritual each year … which thankfully I only had to observe and not execute … was for my Mom and Dad to decide who should be added or deleted from the list, and who should get “the Christmas Letter” inside their Christmas card.

“We haven’t gotten a card from them for two years now,” my Mom might say. “We shouldn’t send a card this year.”  That she did this from memory demonstrated her capacity for recall as well as the seriousness of the exercise.

The Christmas Letter was a one-page “mimeo” (or, later, “a Xerox”) with a general summary of the year – always upbeat – about key family events and the progress of the “kids” (even after my sister and I were grown).   It would end with hearty greetings and best wishes for the coming year — and handwritten PS and signature. Christian friends might get a Madonna stamp, but friends “of the Jewish persuasion” … as Dad would say … would get a Frosty or WinterWonderland stamp or something similarly neutral.

Reflecting back on it, I can see my Mom’s careful hand in not giving offense and of being “proper.”   Any difficulties we were going thru as a family – my divorce, my nephew’s having teen-age legal issues, etc. – were either not addressed or glossed over with euphemisms sanitized to the point of unrecognizability.

The exercise did serve a purpose: It maintained an annual ping with the former friends, and, when reciprocated, as it often was, it brought welcome news and reminiscences.   A general letter wasn’t as good as a personalized one, but it was a whole lot better than the silence and atrophy of an untended relationship.   Further, Christmas was a “good reason” to write, with no imposition of a duty to write back (other than a card!)

When I grew up and had my own family, I sent my own cards and “Holiday Letter,” forming my own list of addressees.   But sometime in the early 2000s, I realized how the internet had mooted the value of this “tradition.”  Nearly everyone on my “Holiday Letter” list was quite aware of what I was doing – if they cared.  Frequently, during the year, I’d hear from a former colleague or friend with a “what’s happening with you these days, Wayne?”  And I’d answer, with both general info and specific news they might want to hear.

I have (and will) invite people who care about my business doings to subscribe to NodalPartners.com … or just check in there when they want to see what’s shaking.  And information about Caleb and Tyler can best be found on their blogs.  (Molly is resisting the development of an online identity, preferring the physical world instead.)  The bigger reality is that Facebook (for personal connections) and LinkedIn (for professional relationships) has displaced the need to “push” information which people may or may not care about. They can “subscribe” to news about you if they want (and you let them) … and they can filter or de-friend you if they lose interest.

So, long story short: I haven’t done a “Holiday Letter” now for three years.  That’s why!  Nor do I send out cards.  The only Christmas cards I get now are from businesses and professionals who want to maintain visibility and two friends over 70 … one’s 90 and the other’s 103!)

Welcome to the Cloud, dear friends.  I, for one, think this is a big improvement.

Your thoughts?