My heart leaps when I collect cards from my mailbox

My mailbox is filling with holiday cards. Maybe not as many as in previous years, but they’re coming.

This first to arrive was from Corrine and included an adorable family photo and their new address in California.

The card from Aunt Peggy and Uncle Bill in Ohio wished me peace and joy.

When the Tuchis’ card arrived,

Ipoured a glass of wine to read the enclosed two-page letter outlining the family’s year.

I still haven’t ordered my cards. It won’t be the first year ours go out so late that they’re emblazoned with “Happy New Year.”

Getting a decent picture is tough, even though it’s just me, my son Sawyer and the dog.

I usually hang a sheet as a backdrop like we’re in some fancy portrait studio and set a timer on the camera.

Chaos ensues. Someone blinks, or moves, or picks his nose. The dog turns his tail to the camera.

I’ve gotten smarter over the years, pulling the best shot taken during the year from my phone. Last year, I found an artist on Etsy who drew us as characters from Sawyer’s favorite cartoon, “Rick and Morty.”

I get why fewer people send cards. I wonder if I should bother. I keep upto-date with everyone on social media.

Cards are expensive to buy, or make, and to send, and they kill a lot of trees. Addressing envelopes takes hours.

But going through my address book brings back memories of the people who have been a part of our lives. My heart leaps when I see cards in my mailbox.

I feel connected to the senders. I imagine them at their kitchen tables, desks or in a new house in California.

I’m touched they thought of us. Their good wishes feel tangible.

I’ll get my cards out this year (eventually) in the hopes that I’ll still receive them. That makes it worth it.