Red and Green by Liz Flaherty

Mom at 12. 

I was thinking of my mom this morning. She's been gone since 1982, but I still think of her every day. Most of us do that, don't we, even if the relationships weren't ideal. I think of my mother-in-law, too, who left us in 2016. I miss them both. 

But, this morning it was my mom who settled into my thoughts. I was thinking that here it was December 20th and we've only received a few Christmas cards. And I haven't sent any. Not one. 

Mom, who lived through the Great Depression and World War II and a few other wars, was not a lover of Christmas. She and Dad lost a child, 3-year-old Christine Ann, on December 21, 1941, and the season was never the same for either of them again. 

We were poor, and Mom was astonishingly frugal. Except that she had a long Christmas card list. Well, long to me. I imagine it was around 50 people. She would buy the bargain boxes of cards, probably after Christmas, and I'm not sure when she'd start filling out the envelopes, but it was likely Thanksgiving weekend, although the cards didn't go out until at least the 10th of December. 

Because she wrote a note in every one. Every single card. In either green or red ink. I don't know what she wrote, but it usually took up at least a full page of the lined paper she used for letters. She probably wrote on the back, too, because, you know...waste. I don't know how often she bought stamps through the year to make sure she had enough. She also put Boys Town Seals and Red Cross Christmas Seals on each envelope. She sent them each a $1.00 donation. At Easter, she sent Red Cross another $1.00 for Easter Seals. 

I still have a soft spot for the Red Cross. 

She got cards from almost everyone she sent to. If she got one from someone she hadn't sent to, she hurried to send one out to them the next day. She would sit in her chair with the mail in her lap and open each and every one with a letter opener. She'd read the note and laugh, shake her head in disappointment when there was no note included, and go through the stack that sat beside her. I think she looked at all of them every day. She loved the pretty ones, the expensive ones, but she never bought them. Ever.

I'll get mine sent soon--nowhere near as many as I used to send. I'm not doing a letter this year, because I don't have the heart for it, but I have a Christmassy notepad I'll write notes on. Thinking of the people I'm writing to, praying for some of them. Thinking of Mom and the red and green ink.

It's been a year, hasn't it? Not for everyone, and I'm glad for the ones for whom it has landed gently, but for some of us...for me...it's been hard. 

But here I am. I have a beautiful granddaughter getting married this weekend to the man she loves. Most of my kids and grandkids are here or will soon be in the same place. Noisy and funny and...well, noisy. The guy in the other recliner and I have full hearts. 

My mom's life wasn't easy--I'm sure I couldn't face her losses and challenges with as much grace as she did--but she still sent her cards and wrote her notes of cheer and affection in red and green ink. Whether she felt like it or not.

Because of her, because of these blessed memories, and this weekend's full heart, I can do no less. 

Merry Christmas!