Christmas cards from the edge

Becky and I were writing out and addressing Christmas cards tonight. (Oh, we're running soooo late!) We ran out of cards three-fourths of the way though and I went downstairs to my desk in the basement to find more blank cards.

First stack was some large promo envelope full of cards from the Abbey at Yalta or something and promised a mass in the name of the receiver. Not interested in promoting these folks in so shameless a way, so I threw that out.

Next was a box marked, "Traditional Assortment," and I thought that sounded fine. I start perusing this assortment and find cards that are sealed in envelopes and stamped, with addresses on them. Eleven of them. They use 33 cent stamps. Two of the intended recipients are dead, so I open those and I wince, sweetly, at seeing Mom's signature for herself and her dog Gussie (a rendering of his pawprint). These were cards she wrote and never sent. One was to my uncle Mike when he still lived in Cincinnati which I think was more than five years ago. (Mike and Sharon, how long ago was that?)

The impact — I'm paraphrasing something I heard recently — was difficult to speak of. The unexpected, improbable, impossible artifact of my mother's life was a meteorite and it was charged with symbols. I decided to disperse it. I decided that I should send the remaining nine and I left them as they were, in the envelopes with Mom's return address and wrote this brief note:

I just found this. It was sealed. - Steve 12/07 (and then my phone number)

One more set of Christmas cards. Mom loved Christmas. :)

- Steve