The Christmas cards are arriving in a fairly steady stream. I left space for them on the pie safe with the angels. We used to have fancy hangers to display the cards, but they’re long gone. I know not where or why. So, I just stand them up to look at them and remember my friends who sent them. Some cards have notes some not. Some carry pictures of family. Most are signed with a simple signature.

Christmas cards actually have a history and it’s pretty interesting. Another reason to thank the Victorians. I hope it continues on, but we’ll see. Emojis or memes don’t really have the same impact. I created my own cards last year. Got behind this year and simply bought some. I think I’ll go back to making my own cards next year. I used to be pretty good at planning when I worked. Time has a different feel in retirement. November first feels like a good time to start the process. That’s a mental note for me.

I’ll keep doing the cards as long as I’m able. I like looking at the address book and seeing my wife’s delicate handwriting and it gives me pause when I see the names of those who have passed. I’ve added new names in the last several years as I accrue new friends. So, the address book is a living thing, and that’s fun. But it does occur to me that I missed an opportunity when my wife was alive. I could have helped. Instead, I left the chore to her and went about my business. Helping might have been fun and made her Christmases a little brighter.

John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale