Most are dead

Boy, going through my address book to deal with Christmas cards was a revelation.  Most of the souls in the "M's" are dead.  Either that, or they don't talk to me or I them.  Monsignor Martineau is dead, my McKegney birth relatives are all dead, old friends Heather and John Munro are both dead and Hume Martin and I have lost touch.  That's the "M's" dealt with. 

There are others in there we met at cottages over the years, shared great times and with whom we vowed to stay in touch.  Didn't happen.  There are still others I hung out with in Ottawa, but who now never cross my Calgarian mind.  Some people continue to cherish high school friends until they are fairly long in the tooth; I don't.      

B's cousin -- also an "M" doesn't talk to him ever since he called her on her BS.  And all my cousins, save one, don't talk to me either.  A very good thing, frankly.  They may be family, but we have nothing in common anymore, our collective parents long gone.  I don't like people who don't like me, simple as that.  This year, the Christmas cards emanating from our house will be fewer, but I still send them because I think it is completely cheesy and appalling to send greetings via the Internet.  Go out, buy a few cards and stamps and spend a few hours sending messages to your friends.  For Gawd's sake!

If you send Christmas cards, please send "Christmas" cards.  I know it's difficult to find cards that actually mention "Jesus", but they are there.  Today I crawled around on my knees on the bottom shelf in a Hallmark store in Market Mall and managed to scrounge a couple of boxes.  I wear a lapel button which says, "Jesus is the Reason for the Season" and it annoys many people who manage to read it as they pass me.

Too bad.