The Christmas Letter

The infamous “Christmas Letter” is something that has always eluded me. I don’t come from a family that sent out Christmas cards or letters with any degree of regularity. But, we did receive them on a consistent basis.

As a kid, it seemed that most of the letters to come to our home were from people I vaguely knew and that my parents only tangentially cared about keeping up with. My family was on their list for all of eternity given that we had lived down the street from them 16 years earlier, but otherwise, we had no interaction with these people. Hence, their annual letters created a unique vantage point from which to create an mental image of their family.

We received letters from some of the most nauseatingly perfect people on the planet. They must have been – you should have seen the pictures. Their kids were geniuses, excelling at everything they ever attempted, from sports to arts to academics to music. Their fathers had the Midas touch: the wealthy business man, still available for his kids’ activities and single-handedly running the local branch of the church in which he served. The mothers vacationed to exotic locations, participated in civic organizations, canned and read, home-schooled and fed many children and still found time to write and distribute to far-flung friends these annual lists of their accomplishments in rhyme.

In 2000, Jeffrey wrote a Christmas letter for my family. It spoke in glowing terms of all we had done that year: my parents’ trip to a private castle in France, my sister, Erin, bringing home an African Native from her trip to Kenya -- who was living in a tent in our backyard -- and Jeffrey and I traveling to Florida to single-handedly resolve the issues posed by hanging chads. It was a beauty. It had all the elements of a terrific Christmas letter, and my mom sent it out on time. Only, it wasn’t completely true.

As Jeffrey and I have settled in to fully-functioning adult life, with kids and a mortgage, a steady job and a mini-van, I have wondered how to navigate the Christmas letter situation for myself.

Do I just send a card, a nice picture of Santa, a tree, a manger, or some other holiday implement on the front and write “Love, The Merchants” on the inside?

Do I tackle a Christmas picture to include? Do I just do the kids? What about the whole family?

I have traditionally left the adults out, but then, I wonder when I get those cards – what do the parents look like? Are they really still around? They are the people I really know anyway, and while I now have proof of their fertility, I wonder about them. So maybe I need the whole family. Then, again, I would rather include a picture of my adorable children and leave up to the imagination how well Jeffrey and I are aging.

And, that does not even begin to contemplate the famous letter insert.

Do I need to include a letter? Should it rhyme? Should it have a theme? Should it be just a list or actual text? How long is too long? How much do people really want to know? Maybe, I should try out the old satire route again.

Aaaa! So many decisions.

And now, in the digital age, there is a whole other conundrum. What about the e-letter or e-card? Does it count the same if you send a digital picture and email greeting?

It is definitely cheaper, but is it cheap?

And, then, what happens to empty card holders and the inability to flaunt all the cards your family has received this year from all the friends that you have.

With all these questions bouncing around in my head, with traditions and etiquette, propriety and a desire to put my best foot forward all weighing down my mind, I assembled a Christmas card for this year. It is simple. It has a picture of the whole family (since I have one I like this year). It says “Merry Christmas Love, The Merchants” and it refers people here, to our blog, if they are curious for more information.

The perfect balance? A tacky choice? The lazy approach to just getting it done? I don’t know. But, if you are finding yourself here for the first time, or the hundredth, as a result of receiving our Christmas card, then here is my rationale.

I figure this way you can get as much or as little information about our family as you want. Where two years ago we sent out a card sharing our new contact information and the news that we had moved across the country and last year we sent out birth announcements with our Christmas card introducing our little Elisabeth Jane, this year we have just held steady.

We still live in Virginia, outside of Washington, DC. We still have three little girls, as you can tell from the picture. Jeffrey still works as an attorney doing appeals for the US Department of Agriculture. The kids go to school, dance, play soccer, ice skate, eat everything they touch (at least the one year old), love to visit family in Utah, and keep us on our toes. Life is plugging along. That’s it. Not very Christmas card worthy, huh? But, if you want to know more about how it really works, about what we think and feel and say and do every day at the Merchants, then you can find it here.

If you want to send a note to us, you can do that here. If you hardly remember us and don’t want to receive any more of the Christmas cards, you can leave that information here too. If you want to keep up more regularly on all that is happening with us, or just read the random items I choose to write, then you can do that here too (usually about once a week).

In sum, this is the means I have created to keep friends and family apprised of all we are doing. And, so, I am trying it out as the venue for the Christmas letter. The ideal blend of tangible paper sent by the postal service to your home and digital access to more information than you ever really wanted.

In the meantime, every day, I go to my mailbox and receive another Christmas card, or two, or three. I open it with excitement. It is a friend, a cousin, a former co-worker, a sibling. It really doesn’t matter; I read it with anticipation. I hang the card or picture in the entry-way of my home. My hall fills with guests, with warm, smiling faces. I am visited by friends and family, old acquaintances and new.

Unlike my childhood recollections, these cards don’t seem to come from near-strangers, or people I barely recall, they come from loved ones, who often I never hear from the rest of the year. And, as their messages of family, of hope and faith, as their tales of accomplishment or adventures from the year, as the details of their lives cram the walls near my door, my home seems to fill with just a little more love, with the comfort and joy of friendship. And, I feel less alone, less forgotten and far away from dear ones as I celebrate Christmas here in Virginia.

I can only hope my card and message helps you to feel that in your homes too.

Sincerely wishing you all the merriest of holiday seasons, the joy of family and friends, and the brightest of hopes for a new year,

The Merchants.


PS- We love real visitors just as much as the paper ones we get at Christmas.