In the interest of reflection in the New Year, we have done some soul-searching. For that reason, we feel it appropriate to issue an Open Apology to friends, family, vendors, and all of those who have sent us holiday greetings—not only this year but in the past.
We own a card shop. Okay, it’s more than a card shop, but sometimes, we acknowledge that label. (Although we prefer “design” store—especially in response to anyone who says, “why should I buy a sofa from a card store?”)
We sell cards. We sell more and more cards each year. Boxed cards, single cards, postcards. Letterpress cards and flat printed cards. Screen-printed cards and hand-sewn cards and collaged cards. We sell serious cards and a few funny cards. We sell whimsical cards. We sell cards that have words and cards that have just images. We sell gift tags and, well, you get the idea.
We scour stationery shows for the newest cards and styles, careful to make sure our choices work with our carefully established aesthetic. We buy birthday calendars so our customers can remember the birthdays of Great Aunt Helga and cousin Pixie, or that woman they knew from grad school who they exchange once a year cards with. We even sell card organizers so that they can follow up on those birthday calendar entries. We sell personalized stationery, business, social, and even some Thank You’s you’d buy for your kids so they can get in the habit of sending their own notes.
We sell custom wedding invitations. We work with couples to refine their vision of their wedding day. We help them find matching invitations, RSVP cards with abundant meal choices, and matching thank you notes.
We sell stamps and card making supplies, host card-making classes, and wax seals. We sell inkpads and even stickers to close envelopes.
We sell books on how to write letters. Books on HOW TO WRITE CARDS AND LETTERS!
And yet, when it comes to doing these things myself? When it comes to sending cards, we suck.
Okay, I am including John in that “we”, but really, I suck.
One would think I would have a vast stationery collection. Catalogued cards waiting for just the right occasion. Arbor Day? Executive Assistant Week? Grandparent’s Day?
I should have box after box of letterpress goodies and single cards I can send out to congratulate someone on their adoption, or sympathy for the loss of their dog.
Instead, I have a half-used package of thank you notes, taken from the sale bin last year. The card organizer I forced myself to take home last year remains woefully empty. Well, except for the opened but unused Christmas cards I never sent out last year but have carefully put in the “Christmas” category.
It has been years since I sent a holiday card that actually arrived in time for a holiday related to Christmas or New Year’s. And the slippery slope has begun. It started with holiday cards, but now I forget birthdays. I take too long to send a thank you, and I rarely RSVP on time when I receive an invitation.
And my big confession—last year, our son didn’t even send out thank you’s for the birthday presents he received.
In short, I do almost everything the wrong way when it comes to the art of correspondence. And yes, part of that is neglect of you, our friends, family, vendors, and general folks we care about. For that, we apologize.
