January 1, 2024
The Christmas Present
It’s a beautiful Monday morning here in south Florida, first day of the new year and already I feel behind at the sight of my writing desk. The reason? Both unanswered and embarrassingly, in some cases, unopened holiday cards and letters that have been sent to our household in the past several weeks.

They began to slowly appear the week after Thanksgiving. That should have been my sign to organize myself and make sure to upload some family photos at my local photo goods shop or even try the online services like Snapfish.
Instead, I bought a couple of boxes of Christmas cards as an afterthought one day, pledging mentally that I would just answer each card greeting with a handwritten response as it came to our home as a personal touch. The weeks sped on into December, no responses sent.
There was a lull in mail activity in the second week of December followed by an onslaught of postcards and decorative envelopes. The week of Christmas itself had a sloshing sort of mail arrival volume on a daily basis making me dizzy at the thought of how many folks seemed to have it together for the holidays and yet I hadn’t been able to really write down one word cohesively in a Christmas or holiday greeting card.
Perhaps this is the part in the story that I should have made my way to our CVS Pharmacy store and sat myself down at the photo kiosk to put together a simple greeting card and prepare to seal and stamp countless cards the very next day before we left town for a family Christmas getaway.
Again, I deviated from a logical and less stressful course and instead bought a few boxes of “Happy New Year” cards—my caustic mind thought that these overachieving acquaintances and friends were just going to have to accept a belated personal response wishing them well for 2024.
For those reading who know me personally, please forgive me that you may actually receive one of these aforementioned “Happy New Year” cards this very week prior to the feast of Epiphany. Further, please truly forgive me if you never do.
The oddest part about this present holiday writing behavior of mine is that if you do know me, I’m verbose during the rest of the year in the snail mail department. I keep track of my letters and care packages on a weekly basis and I average at least 8 – 10 items each week throughout the year—excluding the deployment of postcards to family and friends when I travel on road trips or work my summers in Wyoming.
The Christmas Past
Let me dial back a bit to explain for proper context and some revelation for why I’m sarcastic and a little bitter about this ritual of photo card and letter swapping for the holidays.
It used to be I always sent out a photo card of sorts and printed letter (sometimes hand-written for certain chosen recipients). In 2000 I got married and kept subscribing to this holiday correspondence for nearly two decades.
Sometime before the COVID-19 pandemic date marker of 2020, life for our household had become hectic with the understandable challenges of raising three children, living in a multi-generational home, and sustaining recent death in home hospice care of a beloved elderly family member, Grandma Marjorie Bean, who had lived with us and weathered years of dementia prior to her departure. Additionally, I went back to school with the start of my MBA degree at University of Florida.
Basically, something had to give out with the mounting responsibilities here at home and so the stress and mess of getting a holiday card/letter greeting out to family, friends and co-workers took the proverbial “kick to the curb”.
The other factor I believe is indifference and a sense of redundancy that has overcome me in recent years.
At least for those family members and friends who were on my social media outlets—in my personal case, primarily Facebook—I had noticed that most everyone was sharing photos and updates on their family lives throughout the year. In our case, we do not post our children’s photos online if we can help it as our choice until they are at age of consent for themselves.
Still, by the time the holiday season came around post-Thanksgiving, I felt we’d already been kept posted on the lives of others and so didn’t feel the urgency to know how people were doing or to go through the trouble of updating everyone.
My holiday mail correspondence became one of a short list of must-send-outs with personal handwritten greetings and then responding to anyone else’s mail that came in with another personalized response. Care packages continued as in years prior but now I didn’t toss in a mass copied photo card, I would print out individual photos and stick them into cards to those who hadn’t seen us all year.
Fast-forward to now and 2023 brought us another passing of a family member in our home during late September. The patriarch of our family, Dr. William J. Bean, had a slow decline in health with months of hospice care at the house before passing at the age of 97.
By the time the end of the year had come, my ability to write had become nearly obsolete by my standards because of pure fatigue. Hardly any cards left this house for the holiday season, even some care packages to family and friends lacked them.

The Christmas Future
So why do people still send them? Why don’t I?
These two questions have been cycling in my mind for weeks now and came to a chaotic and heartbreaking crescendo last week.
A few days after Christmas day I was informed of tragic news while working in the house with family members cleaning and decluttering in preparation for the upcoming new year.
It was the type of news that shatters the normal clattering of life on a random weekday afternoon and pierces your spirit in the ethereal gut at the realization that someone you know left this Earthen plane much too soon.
After reviewing and putting my phone away, I stumbled over to sit at my writing desk to digest the news. My mind whirled to clearly remember the last time I spoke with her a few weeks ago and had the vague recollection that I had received something from her in the mail. My hands fumbled through the paper stack mess on my desk to find her Christmas card. I found it within seconds and just looked at it as if it were for the first time.
Simple greetings were in the text with a cursive font appropriate for the season and a collage of beautiful photos of their family. Pure bliss in all their eyes, photos picked just for this occasion to share with family and friends their joy in life and although so busy with all the things that a growing family has going on—her photo card was a way of saying something like, “hey, we’re super busy with wonderful things as you can see, but we care about you and hope you have a beautiful holiday season-xoxo”.
My eyes welled up to the blurriest degree as I pinned up her card on the wall next to my writing desk where I keep a running list of prayer petitions. Her loved ones were now left with countless photos like these in her sudden absence. May her memory be eternal.+
In the days since, I’ve been going around my home and rummaging through my vehicle to locate every last holiday card and letter. At the same time, I’ve been mentally drafting what I should or could write in a short amount of time to make up for another lost holiday correspondence effort this past season.
More effectively, regardless of who I’m able to reach in the next couple of weeks, I’m making a resolution to attempt in 2024 the Christmas et al list to share with those who still enjoy sharing their lives with us in this way. Just about 11 months to go at this rate for planning purposes right?
I guess I had become a “scrooge” of sorts in this realm of recent traditions, but after some revelations in the past few years including last week’s news, I admit that there is a net positive to engaging with others this way—especially when life’s circumstances or distances far apart keep us from seeing loved ones as often as we’d like while we’re here.
Blessed New Year to us all.
R.V.S.B.























































