Greeting Cards

Brooke was never one to throw things away. She always kept the smallest bit of wrapping paper, newspaper clipping, ribbon or ticket stub – if only for the nostalgic value that she anticipated the object someday giving. In that way, she’d accumulated a collection of greeting cards over the years – mostly because she didn’t have the heart to recycle them. The cards were given to her from a variety of people throughout her life. Ridding herself of the cards would show her disinterest or lack of appreciation for these people, she reasoned.

Throughout the last ten or so years, she’d kept all cards, no matter how small, in a plastic waterproof container under her bed – to prevent water, rodent or pest damage to her precious memories.  In the last few weeks, she’d received various letters, cards and photo cards and had been adding them to her collection – so much so that container was beginning to bulge when she forced the lid atop it.  One Saturday morning, as she opened the box to place in a newly received postcard from her friend in Switzerland, she decided it was time to have a look at the memories from over the years.

Sprawling out on the living room carpet, she poured the contents of the box on to the floor. The cards seemed to have a mind of their own as they slid off one another in all directions, exiting the box.  Brooke carefully spread them across the floor and sat down on one of the pile, coffee in hand, preparing for a long afternoon of reminiscing. It was raining outside anyhow.

She picked up card from the pile. A cartoon alligator staring up at a smiling sun adorned the front, with the caption ‘Thinking of you makes me smile”.  Opening the card, she saw it was from her mother. No date, but her mom had written a note of praise and mentioned $5 was on the gift card that was no longer in the card. Must be from my college, years Brooke thought – even though her mother continued to send gift cards via the US Postal Service. Not that she needed them now. Brooke was well employed at a downtown firm, good benefits, great coworkers. She could pay her own rent, her seemingly endless student loans and still have enough left over for a beer or two. Still, Brooke remembered the times her mother had sent gift cards – even if for a simple cup of coffee and she smiled.

Next card in the pile: an Easter card with the word ‘granddaughter’ on the front. On the inside was a simple Easter greeting and her grandmother’s very characteristic handwriting. Brooke had always thought it interesting the kind of cards she’d received from her grandma. The cards were always simple, always Hallmark brand (she did care enough to send the very best!) and grandma never added any extra comments. She liked to let the card speak for itself, which Broke admired. Grandma always included a date as well, which was handy for tracking life events, Brooke thought. She found her grandmother’s handwriting comforting in the moment. Her grandmother had passed on a few years back and this was the first time she’d seen it since.

Amidst the pile, Brooke spotted a few smaller colorful cards. They looked like they’d been handmade out of construction paper. She gathered them from the pile and amassed them in front of her. Picking through them she saw they were from a dear college friend who enjoyed crafting her own cards. She too, had an easily distinguishable handwriting.

For most of the afternoon, Brooke dove into this pile of cards, a veritable sea of memories. Christmas cards dating as far back as first year of college, birthday cards, Halloween cards, graduation cards from college, thank you cards, post cards, letters from her pen pal across seas. She didn’t read the full messages in each, but the ones she did read brought her back. She couldn’t help shedding a few tears reading the caring and thoughtful messages she’d received when her grandmother had passed. She smiled at the funny and often inappropriate birthday cards her crazy girl friends had sent her. She was grateful for the kind messages she’d received from her aunt who lived across town. Brooke was glad she had saved these things – and knew she’d want to revisit them. It’s as if she had saved the important events of her life and stored them in a box.

Brooke noticed a pattern: many of the same names kept appearing in the cards. While she’d met many people in her life, it appeared that those most important made their care known via mail. Snail mail. Pony Express. Precursor to email, Google, chat or Skype, the classic Hallmark or handcrafted greeting cards had always meant the most to Brooke. And they still do, she decided.

Reflecting back on the years since began her collection, she realized that her life had been blessed by those in this box. Those people who, as Hallmark would say, “Care enough to send the very best.” She loved her cards, she loved her friends and family – though she knew it was time to give up some of these physical memories. It warmed her heart to see these messages once again, but she knew she was ready to move forward as well.

Placing a brown paper bag in front of her lap, she began the tedious task of reducing the amount of cards in her enormous stack.  She began placing cards in the bag one by one. And with each card gone, she felt a little lighter, a little happier - not because the size of her card collection caused her stress, but because she knew that these memories now lived on in her heart.  And all she could do was smile.