Going through the stack of unused Christmas cards to pick out the ones I want to send this year, I came across two cards and matching envelopes that gave me pause.
Janet had addressed the envelopes and signed them. I had a strange sensation that she were still here, signed the cards, put them aside and would come back into the room any moment to put the stamps on them.
It made sense. We had a very peculiarity way of allotting the work on Christmas cards. I wrote the addresses on all the envelopes. I had better penmanship than she did. Even she called her writing hen-scratch. I wrote notes inside the cards going to people who were more my friends and relatives than for both of us. If she did not have anything particular to share with mutual friends, I just signed our names. And if they were more her friends and relatives and she wanted to write something special, she wrote in the cards.
Why she actually addressed the cards I don’t remember. I’ve wracked my brain for a while and have decided it didn’t make any difference. I do understand why she didn’t finish them. All the cancer treatments had worn her out and she had done all she could for that day.
For a fleeting moment, I considered sending those two cards exactly as she had written them. All I’d have to do is put the stamps on them. Then again, I realized receiving a Christmas card from a woman who had been dead eleven months might be quite a shock. I am saving them for now. I’ll decide what to do with them at a later date.
Maybe it’s just a reminder that Janet will never be completely gone. There will always be something around the house that she had started then had to put away because the pain or fatigue were too much.
I recently had lunch with a couple who shared our last Thanksgiving dinner with us. They were waiting for us outside the restaurant. They said they looked up and saw Janet bouncing up with a big grin on her face. Cancer could take many things away, but it could not take away her bubbly nature and the bounce in her step.
Like I said, she will never be completely gone. Thank goodness. I need that bubble and bounce in my life right now.