on seasonal bravery

 Years ago - it feels like a whole other century - I opined that there was a certain bravery in Christmas decoration: 

To me, it seems like there's a certain bravery (maybe that's not the right word) in the small-town Christmas decorating. The world is going to heck - it has always been going to heck, whether it was because of the Depression or the war or unrest or a drought or the steel mill closing or layoffs at the Ford plant - and yet, those small towns still decorated. They still said there was something worth celebrating. (And perhaps, in those times when the world seemed especially to be going to heck, the celebrations were even more needed and more important). And you did what you could, even if you couldn't have much monetary outlay - you made divinity with eggs from the farm and sugar carefully kept back from each month's ration. Or you took down the mirror from the living room wall and turned it into a frozen pond with some cotton wool and a couple of the children's toys. Or the city fathers dug out the previous years' decorations and cleaned them up and made them make do.

And I stand by that. As much as ever - perhaps more than ever, in living memory - the world feels like it's going to heck (though with the announcement today of the emergency authorization of a vaccine, here's hoping NEXT Christmas is less-different than this one is). 

And maybe there IS a certain courage in picking yourself up out of your chair, when maybe you don't want to get out of it, and going to get the boxes of Christmas decorations. Or trying to make cookies even if you can't get to the "good" grocery store for better supplies - or there is a shortage of something you want (I understand fresh ginger can be hard to come by at the moment). Or doing the best you can to make a happy Christmas for your kids, even though they may have gone eight months from having a playdate with anyone outside the family. 

And perhaps, yes, it's easier to do that when other people are there. I know I've not-done some things because it's just me, and on the worst days of this I didn't even feel like I was worth cooking for.  

But eventually you do decide: well, I'm stuck here, so I might as well put up the tree. And then: I might as well get the Nativity set out. And the battery-operated "flameless" candles.

And make the fruitcake, though I did that the day before I had to try on three skirts to find one I could comfortably zip to wear for church. (Exercise has been increased, and I've cut back on sweets, though I do have a small slice of the fruitcake every other day or so)

And tonight I did my cards. I think this is a tradition that needs to live on. I know some people want to abandon it - I saw someone tweet hopefully that "maybe 2020 finally kills Christmas cards?" but you know? I like them. I like getting actual mail that is mail in the mailbox instead of the usual December barrage of catalogs and charity requests. 

And also, for me, they're a link with the past. I think I wrote before about how some years when I was a kid, I earned money from my mom by typing out the address labels for her Christmas cards. She had an extensive list in those days; probably close to 100 people. Some of them were distant relatives (my mom had many, many cousins and nieces and nephews who were close to her age, almost all gone now). Some were friends from my parents' college days, or from earlier workplaces. Some were neighbors or people from church. In those days she had more time and wrote notes to everyone individually. Later, after my brother and I were in college, she and my dad wrote a short Christmas letter (yes, I know people hate those, but they kept it to less than a page) that he typed up.

I suspect, since she doesn't really use the computer and printer, this year she's back to writing notes herself. But also her list is much smaller than it was. 

My list has grown a bit - if you requested a card, you're getting one (in fact, I think all my out-of-town cards are in the set I did tonight). Even if we've exchanged cards in the past and I have your address, you're getting one.Tomorrow night I am doing the AAUW ones - I bought extra cards with the idea that since AAUW wasn't having their usual Christmas party, and many of the women (because of age or health conditions) are staying VERY strictly home - and many are widows - so they are every bit as alone as I've been, and I suspect they would like getting cards. I'll write a bit more on these because I want to explain that I'm doing it since we weren't able to meet (I don't expect reciprocation). 

But yeah, maybe trying to keep up a few traditions in the face of this year? Maybe there is a little bravery in that.