Dec 21st, 2007
Friends on the mind
I’m all for recycling and limiting consumption, but one practice I cling to is sending out holiday cards. I love the speed, ease, and low cost of e-mail, but there’s something so delightful about the tangibility of snail-mail. I’m sorry to say that I don’t have nearly as much time as I’d like to devote to old-fashioned, pen-and-paper correspondence, but when I do I get such a thrill from retrieving a letter from my mailbox or sending a note on its way to a friend.
Around this time of year I send holiday (no mention of any particular holiday save the start of a new year—there have been times, though, when I was so late with my card-sending that my greetings ended up being perfectly timed to acknowledge the beginning of the new lunar new year) cards to most of my friends and family. We make the cards ourselves (Sylvia’s contribution this year is “patting down” anything that’s been glue-sticked onto the blank card), and I handwrite all of the addresses (recipients’ and ours) and notes inside.
Sure, it would be quicker and easier to print out address labels and stick them onto the envelopes. But I enjoy the slow pace of writing by hand and thinking about each recipient as I prepare his or her card. Most of my friends are scattered throughout the country (and in far corners of the world), and I don’t see them nearly as often as I’d like. Our interactions are infrequent, but I treasure those friendships nonetheless.
But some friendships just don’t last, unfortunately. People change, time and distance make it harder to maintain relationships, and sometimes there are even fallings-out. Sometimes you just have to let go.
For several years, I used a Palm Pilot IIIxe PDA as what I called “my electronic brain.” Mostly it functioned as an address book and calendar for me, and when it ceased working a little over two years ago, I was able to print out the address book backup file from my PC. Since then, this stack of papers has functioned as my address book, and it now has handwritten corrections and deletions all over it. This year, as I prepared our holiday cards, I also wrote addresses and whatnot into the still-blank address book Jan and I bought for our anniversary three years ago. The printout will be tossed into the recycling bin when I’m done.
At the same time, I took this opportunity to remove (well, in this case, “remove” means “not write in the new book”) the names and addresses of people I was no longer in contact with and didn’t think I would be again. There are a few people I don’t miss—a handful of former friends who have become unfriends. There are lots of people I’ve just lost track of and think that the gap between us has grown so great that the casual friendship we shared a long time ago isn’t a strong enough base for renewal of that relationship.
And there’s one person who’s died. She was someone I went to grad school with (she had started in my department two or three years before me), and although we weren’t close friends who made plans to get together socially, we had many great conversations when we ran into each other on campus. I remember sitting with her in her office for a couple of hours the week before I left for Oregon, talking with her about fieldwork (she had already completed her own dissertation research, in Indonesia) and the Nikon SLR I’d just purchased from her. She’d bought it while in the field but found that she could not use a fully manual SLR because she had a slight tremor in her hand that prevented her from adjusting the focus accurately.
After I moved to the Mid-Atlantic several years ago, I didn’t keep in touch with her, but her contact information stayed in my address book. Last summer, I heard from another grad school colleague with whom I’d been out of touch and who told me that our mutual friend had committed suicide nearly three years earlier by stepping in front of a freight train. I was stunned to hear that news. And now, coming across her name on my printed-out address list, I was a bit taken aback again—and saddened not to put her in my new address book.
We also try to send out Christmas cards to people we’ve met in our multiple post-graduate peregrinations. Some have gone by the wayside, and some (that I wouldn’t have expected) keep sharing their yearly stories with us.
I, too, know people who have committed suicide. Both were from elementary school. One was a boy who was a bit of a trouble-maker, so as an uptight study-girl, I didn’t spend too much time with him, but when I heard he had jumped in front of a NYC commuter train, it made me sad.
The other was a sweet sweet boy I used to play school with as a kid. When I got married, he was our DJ. He was the most wonderful kind person — the kind you just want to hug they are so nice. He got married because his mother wanted him to. I could tell it wasn’t the right thing for him, but he came from a very religious Italian family. One time, he tried to talk to his mom (”I need to tell you something,” he said. ” Don’t say anything to me,” she said, “pray to God to forgive you and make you strong.”) Eventually, the guilt and distress were too much and he hung himself. I try not to be bitter at his mother, but it’s hard. Damn, I just wish people didn’t think there was only one way to love and that other kinds are poisonous.
This is the time of year to think of endings as well as beginnings. And I try to learn from these experiences what to teach my daughters, and to remember how precious and fragile human beings are.
I often wonder how old friends or acquaintances are and it’s sometimes so hard to find out. A couple of years ago, I bought my college’s alumni directory for the sole purpose of getting the addresses of 2 of my closest college friends (including my then roommate). The roommate’s contact info was out of date. The letter I sent was returned and I mailed it to her parents’ house. No response.
The other friend I e-mailed and snail mailed. A mutual friend who lives close to them also e-mailed and wrote. Neither one of us heard back.
Maybe they appreciated hearing from us, and were just too busy to respond. Or maybe not. But it’s turned me off from trying to track down other people.
I’ve had a PDA in some form for years. So whenever I look for someone’s contact info, I come across old work contacts and think about how I’m never going to need to speak to these people again and really should delete their info.
How sad about your old grad school friend…
I know what you mean about the friends that vanish. There’s a poem I read once: “There are the people who don’t say goodbye…” Sometimes it’s me vanishing, sometimes it’s the friend - but it’s always due to changes in one or the other of us. A melancholy thought…
Gosh - I could almost see you sitting there writing out the addresses - and stopping to ponder the one grad school friend address that did not need to be transferred over. I’ve actually kept a few names in my address book even though I no longer chat with them - or know their contact information is out of date. It is a weird thing - but my hope is that some of these people will somehow wind up back in my life. The time has really come though to do a full clean-up — and I might actually tackle this very soon, but like you, it won’t be without regard and serious consideration to the people who are being removed.
I love paper too. I’ve given up a lot of things in the name of the environment, but I am not giving up writing letters on paper, reading newspaper and books! I can’t imagine cozying up to a computer to read a novel. This year I am using newspaper and paper bags for Christmas gift wrap (decorated by Thomas, of course!) and I think maybe I’ll save this years holiday cards to cut up and use as gift tags next year. We loved your card this year, Sylvia is the cutest!
I have a very old address book and it is sort of fun to come across names of people who’ve passed on or who I’ve lost touch with. Gives me a little trip down memory lane, I guess.
So sad about your grad-school friend, and to step in front of a train, what a horrible way to go. Suicide is the most heartbreaking thing to me. I have a few old classmates who’ve killed themselves too and it makes me so sad.