The Holiday Card Dilemma

Sitting in a glass vase in my home office is a pile of unopened Christmas cards, from 2009. Realizing that we have once gain entered the season of holiday cards, I am thinking about the best way to deal with these little deliveries again. 

It was one of the first normal life occurrences that caught me off guard after getting our Azoos diagnosis. Shortly after Thanksgiving last year I came home from work, collected the mail, and was delighted to see that we had received our first holiday card. 

I love receiving holiday cards. I love sending them out too. Every year I post all of the pictures from friends on family on the refrigerator. I love seeing people that I love throughout the year, right there on our fridge smiling at us. It makes the world feel smaller, and generally cheerful. 

But when I opened this first holiday card of 2009 to discover a beautiful picture of a beautiful little family, mom, dad, and precious little girl, standing together smiling, I lost it.  My immediate urge was to tear the picture into tiny little pieces and stomp on it. 

I started at the picture as tears poured down my face. I was consumed by emotions that had no words, that had no expression beyond my sobs. How could such a joyful and expected piece of mail cause me so much unexpected pain and sorrow? How could this family be so perfect when my dreams for my family had been shattered just months earlier? 

I grabbed my phone and retreated into my closet where my sobs would be muffled and I would be safe from any other unexpected assaults to my traumatized soul. I called my sister - god bless my sister. This was not the first call she had received from a sobbing Foxy, and she handled it like a pro.  As I explained to her what had just happened, I felt like a crazy person for getting so upset over something so menial. But she validated my feelings and suggested something just as crazy. 

She suggested that I shouldn’t open any more holiday cards. She suggested that I ask ML to collect these deliveries from the mail and hide them away in a box. Then, if and when I was ready, I could open the cards later. It was a crazy idea, but it was brilliant. It made so much sense. 

So that’s what we did. All future holiday cards were diverted into a glass vase that sat in my office. The rest of the holiday season was manageable, and eventually I was able to laugh at the glass vase strategy we’d implemented. The only pictures we had on the fridge this year were of ML and I, and our puppies.

I also decided, during that evening that I hid and cried in my closet, that we would not be sending any holiday cards in 2009. The thought of choosing a picture of us smiling and looking happy when our world had just shattered around us and it was all I could do to keep breathing much less smile, just seemed wrong. There was nothing to celebrate. I decided to boycott Holiday cards in all forms. 

I always intended to go back and open those cards from 2009, but the time never came when I felt ready. 

The thing is, I really do love these holiday cards. I love the pictures, of friends, and their families, of little ones, and growing ones, of travel, and joyful moments, I love them. I even love knowing that there is a glass vase with cards and pictures waiting for me when I am ready for them. I would never dream of asking friends to not send us these cards, I want these cards. 

What I really want is to be able to send these cards with pictures of my family, of my little ones, of my growing ones, and joyful moments from my family. 

And here we are again, expecting to receive more little deliveries. ML and I talked last night and will implement the same strategy this year as last. All holiday cards will be diverted into the glass vase. 

Call it crazy. Call it sane.  I just know that it is one more choice that we make for self-preservation. 

I also know that next Christmas, I fully expect to be sending out our own picture cards complete with our Someday family, with the biggest smiles ever! (I also expect to receive yours!)