I'm not a big believer in giving people cards.
It seems to me that every cause for celebration (or even commiseration) must be accompanied by a piece of A4 card, folded in two with a few meaningful/less (delete as appropriate) words written inside. But I don't really see the point.
Now before you go assuming I'm some sort of bitter eco-warrior, using the fate of the rainforests as an excuse to vent his frustration at not getting any valentine's cards this year, I'll explain what I mean. I can see how personal a card can be, and I understand that the sentiment truly is there. But I've long thought that being at said celebration in person, or making a simple phonecall to pass on your best wishes, far outweighs sending a card.
However, one thing has happened recently that has made me start to think about this a little differently. Now this might get a little heavy for a bit but there is a point to it, so stay with me.
A few weeks ago my grandfather passed away after a short battle with illness. He was 83, and had lived a long and full life. The number of people who attended his funeral was testament to how adored he was. I shall miss him very much.
As part of the whole unsavoury business of clearing out his now empty flat, in amongst the books and books of stamps on the shelves (my grandfather was a keen philatelist...though he had a different word for it...stamp collecting or something), my aunt found a tatty old folder. And when she opened it she cried.
In it were pages and pages of birthday and Christmas cards from friends and family, going back for years, lovingly placed and arranged on each page. Now as I hope I've already intimated, my grandfather was not a lonely man. Every time I saw him he was surrounded by people, people who loved him and who he loved in turn. And yet, every single card he received meant so much to him that he kept them. Was it a life affirming exercise to prove to himself that he was loved? Was he actually quite lonely? Was it just another one of his collections? We'll never know.
I also don't know if this will change my mind about sending cards. But I do know I wish I'd sent more to my grandfather for him to put in his folder.
Patrick James McSweeney. 'Grandad Pop'. 1925 - 2008.
1 comment:
That's a lovely post and I'm so sorry about your grandfather.
I keep cards if they have proper messages in them - and I also hoard text messages and emails. Sometimes people can say things in writing that they can't bring themselves to say out loud, and cards can be very touching. I don't make enough effort to send them either, so maybe I should follow your example and start sending more.
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