Since the 1960s, I saved every letter I received -- and any greeting card that had more than a signature inside.
But here's the problem: I rarely go back and look at them. So this holiday season, I decided to sort through the 76 Christmas and Hanukkah cards I've saved and decide if I should still keep them.
Turns out, it was really fun (as I describe in the holiday episode of I Couldn't Throw It Out.) If you're a saver -- and I know there are many of you out there -- I hope my visit with the Ghost of Holiday Cards Past will encourage you to do the same.
For inspiration, here are other favorites from my 55-year stash.
Of all the Christmas cards I've received, the one above -- sent to me by my friend Tim -- made me laugh the hardest, especially since this is what it says inside.
Considering all that's expected of him, it was inevitable that Santa would end up on the couch. (By the way, the Santa drawing is by Jill Wright.)
I also enjoyed this Santa joke from a card I got way back in 1978:
But the real reason I saved this card is because the inside contained a party invitation from my college-mate Ginger Thompson, a guest on our holiday podcast episode. I was so excited that she invited me that I saved the card for, oh, just about 47 years.
I'm happy to say that we still see Ginger all the time. And I'm less happy that I have no idea about the whereabouts of my fifth grade friend Geoffrey Slachta. At least I've still got the oldest card in my collection, which he sent to me around 1967. Snoopy rules!
Some other favorites include the handmade cards made for me by my podcast co-host Sally Libby back when we were in high school. Because we lived in a 99.9% Christian town -- and Sally's full name Sara Buckingham Welsh is as WASP-y as it gets -- we got a lot of laughs of my unusual religious celebrations. This inspired Sally's original poem.
The rarity of my ethnicity even struck a funny note with my high school English teacher Paul Janeczko. Even if he hadn't become well-known as a poet -- which he did - I'd still save this as a memory of how great teachers can be. (He was also the advisor of the high school literary magazine Mindscape, which I co-edited with Sally.)
My college pal Tom is the king of homemade cards. Because he's a cartoonist, he once made a custom drawing for us -- which made us very proud when we got it. And it still does.
Because you're always gonna get a card from your newspaper carrier -- even if you don't hear from anyone else -- Tom convinced his family to pose for their holiday cards with their newspaper delivery man. At least until the kids rebelled. In this one, it's a double joke -- because they're in front of another photo with the same guy.
It's always great to get cards with photos of our friends' children. This one had to be saved. Those three are all full-fledged adults now: An evolutionary biology professor, a classical guitar teacher, and an immigration lawyer. Who knew?
Over time, I received a few cards that wrestled with the age-old mystery: How do you spell Hanukkah or Chanukah or whatever -- including this one from our friend (and mom of the kids in the photo above) The Very Famous Nancy:
Side note: If you have struggle with that same challenge, you must listen to this song by a band called the LeeVees:
I went for the "Ch" spelling when we made block prints in art class around 1967 or 1968. Everyone else made Santas and Christmas trees -- and just so no one would think I was like everyone else, I made this:
Then I made it into this card for my mom, which was also signed by my three siblings -- with a special annotation on the back, just so there'd be no doubt about who made it.
A much more emotional exchange with my mom took place about 20 years later in the late 80s -- when I didn't know which way I was going with my life, and my mom sent me this Hanukkah card, with some free verse that she composed to comfort and encourage me. I hesitated about sharing this. But then I think she would have liked for people to see how thoughtful she could be. So here it is:
Turns out, reviewing my cards and letters was a great project for the holidays. It brought back memories that I had lost for years -- and added some extra laughs and emotional moments to my holiday season. It even got me to do something I very rarely do. Five of the 76 cards I saved actually mean nothing to me now. So they'll add just a little more heft to the holiday recycling pickup.
If you want to tell us about your experiences as you look back at the holiday cards you saved, write to us.
Oh, and one more thing... Happy Holidays!
