As usual, the Divine Mrs. M and I have put off the annual Christmas card extravaganza until last night when it all seemed to come together in a rush. We started the tradition of sending photo cards of our daughters and a brief letter outlining our activities over the past year in the early years of our marriage. Most of the cards went to older relatives on both sides of the family. We thought it was a handy way to stay in touch with many people we rarely saw. It proved to be a hit with the target audience. Many people said they looked forward to our annual picture of the girls and the missive that accompanied it.
Fast forward to 2020. Most of our cards are going to contemporaries or younger relatives. We now include pictures of ourselves, and the annual letter seems to take up more and more space. Who knew the activities of a couple of grumpy seniors and their offspring could run to a page and a half. More importantly, who cares.
One of the problems with traditions is they take over your life at a certain point. As with everything else in this life, there are pluses and minuses with every interaction. On balance, I think this minor holiday card and photo show has given us far more than we supposed it would when we started. I hope in my curmudgeonly way we will continue for at least a few more years.
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