Paper hugs

I haven't taken my Christmas cards down yet. I may leave them up until Valentine's Day. Each one holds love and with that love comes fond memories from people I can't see every day.

Every morning I sit here and sip coffee from my first mug of the day and I look at the cards encircling the doorway and I think "I should really take those down" but I don't. I like them too much. They are proof that I am blessed with friends and family. They are proof that I matter in this world.
Sure, one or two come from places or people I don't really know. One from the postman, another from the local baseball team we bought season tickets to. They don't really know me but I don't really care. Their cards hang right there with the others, they carry memories too.
The mailman, who's deaf ..not that it matters, always leaves two tiny Milk Bone treats for Rudy even though he cannot hear him. He knows whenever he approaches either door Rudy is somewhere inside barking his fool head off, just like he does in the warmer days. So our mailman leaves him treats which Rudy enjoys every time, his little tail wagging faster than his jaws can crunch those bones. I left him a plate of cookies and he mailed (yes, mailed) me a card.
The card from the Rochester Red Wings reminds me that soon I'll be sitting in my new season ticket holder seat freezing my tush off on Opening Day. I'll be screaming and clapping my mittened up hands and will jump to my double socked and booted feet when we score. Will it be cold? Yup. Will I be bundled up like a toddler on the first day of snow, unable to bend my elbows, waist or knees? Yup Will it be worth it? Hell yup.

I've got cards from my cousins, cards from old neighbors, cards from a dear friend or two. Each one holds a smile. My cousin, a few years older than me, is the proud Dad of two toddlers. Yes, toddlers at his age. God bless him, I remember those days. He's running ragged, always moving and still sends a letter out with a card. A tradition he carries over from his parents. His card is Christmas to me. He and his sister and parents would travel by train from NYC each Christmas and we'd meet up with them at his grandmothers to eat and play and go out in the snow on the old wooden sleds. We only saw them twice a year so the excitement for Christmas held a special glow. His parents are old now, as old as my parents would be. They no longer live on their own and can't tackle small notes let alone Christmas letters full of updates and news and their usual invite to one and all to join them on New Years for their annual party. We never went, too far away but the invite itself brought visions of a different world in the Big Apple. His party is on hold for a few years, toddler chasing takes over as all of us parents know. But his card still brings memories of sights and smells from years past. I look at it now and can picture those days at his Grandma's warming up after a long afternoon of sledding. I can smell the ham baking and the scent of her tree and the image of a pile of gifts and toys pops into my head. Each time we met up the four of us kids picked up right where we left off and when my cousin came to Mom's memorial with his wife and small kids we picked up again as if we'd just seen each other in the past week. Some things never ever change and I hope they never will.

There's a card from my brother. He's on the long road to recovery. Soon after Christmas he took a bad fall and will never be the same. He was in critical condition for a while and I look at his card and think how lucky I am to have this last member of the Robinson four still with me. I could have lost him and I didn't. He is blessed and so am I.

There's a card from my childhood next door neighbor. She reminds me that we will do lunch this summer when she's in town. Now that Mom is gone her visits will include my brother and I. There's another from the people directly across the street from her on our old street. One from my parents friend a street over and a couple from others in the old 'hood'. We scattered like so many people do when they grow up but these cards tie us all back together.

I got sad cards with only one name at the bottom. Too many people leave us before we are ready to say goodbye. It reminds me to be grateful for the time I spend with loved ones. It reminds me to say "I love you" and to get a real hug in when I go to say goodbye.

I've a few photo cards. The next generation and the children they've had. My granddaughter included. She's six now and a big sister. Her Christmas card picture doesn't show that first lost tooth, that happened between then and now. Then off to the right is a picture of a dear family with a little girl born a week after my granddaughter. She's recently lost her first tooth too but like my granddaughter her smile is full in her photo too. They change so quickly, next year's photos will come too soon.

I've got cards from dear friends, far friends, and near friends. Friends I've met and friends I'll never meet. Family I cherish and the children they chase. I'm blessed to have this out pouring of love so I think I'll keep my Christmas cards up a while longer. To others they may be tacky or silly but to me they are paper hugs.