BEMIDJI, MINN.
And now a few words on behalf of the much-disparaged yet beloved form, the Christmas letter. It's headed toward obsolescence, what with e-mail, social networking sites, the price of postage and the Caring Bridge for tough times. My generation, the longtime practitioners of the art, have a harder time every year coming up with a letter that avoids the recital of surgeries, recent diagnoses, the passing of beloved pets and litanies of praise for grandchildren the reader has never met.
Writing a Christmas letter has actually become a bit hazardous. There's a website out there that posts outrageous ones. There's the chance that your letter may be the one that is read aloud for strangers who are amused rather than amazed that your grandson entered college with nearly a year's worth of credits from taking AP courses in high school and that your granddaughter soloed on the flute at the middle-school concert after less than a year on the instrument.
Yet, we forge on, and I applaud all Christmas-letter writers who will soon sit down at their laptops. We traditionally receive our first Christmas letter the day after Thanksgiving. It is the best of the form. It will be short, witty, informative of major life changes and a bit self-deprecating. It comes from a childhood friend and her husband, and over the years our exchanged holiday letters have been touchstones in our lives.
Sometime in the coming weeks, another favorite will arrive. Not a letter, but a picture card simply signed "Betty and John." Here they are on the steps of their northern Minnesota cabin, or in front of Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox on the Bemidji lakeshore. Another year it's by the fountains at Lincoln Center. They live in New York in the winter and it looks like they still have their season tickets to the Met. John has a cane. Betty's arm is linked through his in affection. Sometimes there are a few lines on the back of the card, but often the picture tells the story: We're still here. We still like each other a lot.
I have written my share of borderline obnoxious Christmas letters with shining reports on graduations, promotions and trips. OK, maybe some crossed the line. There was the year we went to Budapest, and the picture showed us on Castle Hill, with the city in the background, and the letter carried a full report on those baths at the Gellert Hotel and the marvels of the Parliament building. And yes, there was the eventful year when we went to Thailand and my husband had bypass surgery and I quit my big-time job. The lucky folks on our list got a small booklet of journal entries that year. Aren't you glad you missed that one?
I am sad that entire generations have never written a Christmas letter. You might consider taking it up this year. And for the rest, I urge you not to give up. Go ahead. Send the pictures of those lovely blond grandchildren, the report of your daughter's move to the corner office and your grandson's spot on the state championship swimming team. We'd love to see you at the Great Wall in China. But you can skip the part about the lung infection. There is the Christmas communication tradition to uphold. The USPS needs your business. You will provide great joy as folks reach into the mailbox and find something other than bills and solicitations. 'Tis the season. Get to work.
Marilyn Heltzer in a writer in Bemidji.
