BY JOELLEN COLLINS
My Christmas card list has shrunk. Once I listed about 70 names of people designated to receive greetings from me and my family. To this day, there are still a couple of friends who send me cards because of our long relationships, like my best friend in kindergarten, whose pretty young face shines in the photos I have kept. I have not yet heard from her, but I know why. She is now in an assisted living home in Arizona and, when I finally phoned her, sounded weak and shaky. Luckily, I could remind her of how much our friendship has meant to me over the many decades we followed each other’s lives. We seldom visited in person, due to distance, but the few times we did, it was as though we had just seen each other. This same experience flourished many years with some other friends of my long life.
My college roommate and I consistently exchanged cards at Christmas, and I always sensed her intelligence and strong character along with her whimsical comments. Two years ago, I didn’t find any card from her, and embarked upon a search for an address, thinking she had moved closer to her daughter. Several weeks later, her name showed up in a graveyard notice. I knew she had been ill but so wished I had had a chance to somehow say goodbye.
Another absence was that of one of my UCLA friends who accompanied me and 12 others on Project India (a predecessor to the Peace Corps). We always enjoyed each other and cherished the many times she sent a card (always small and characteristic of her modesty) with funny, sweet or flattering comments about some of my writings. I did visit her a few months before she stopped dialysis and courageously faced her fate. We shared several hours of reminiscence, laughing about how we benefited from that trip, in India, so far away from home. Pre-mobile phone, we kept in contact.
A sentimental woman, I have stored thousands of photos and letters. Ruefully, I am winnowing them down so my daughters will not have to spend unnecessary hours deciding what to keep or throw away, but now I am glad I did. I just found an inimitable note from Joy, my now-deceased college roommate, and experienced a sense of gratitude for her place in my life. I am more thankful than sad. What wonderful people I have had the good fortune to know! I may not see them anymore, but they are absolutely a part of me.
I now send a few New Year’s cards; the pedantic that I am, I often include a hopeful quote. This year’s words, from Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, apply to my friends, acquaintances and family who have lived by its message: “People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.”
May we all enjoy each other’s inner light.