Existential angst: The annual holiday letter

[pegkerr]

I bought our photo holiday cards in October, actually, since they are cheaper then, but I never get around to starting to think about the holiday letter and sending them out until November. If you want to bitch and whine about the unspeakable tackiness of including a mass-produced holiday letter with holiday cards, shut up. I don't care what Miss Manners says (well, I usually do, but not on this point). I like receiving holiday letters from my far-flung family and friends, to learn what they have been doing in the past year. I don't care if they boast a bit. Why not tell people what is going on in your life? And why is it such a terrible thing to tell them by using the same words with different correspondents? I get a holiday card every year from a man I loved desperately when I was in college. Just a card with a signature--never a letter. It's maddening, not because I want to revive our relationship in any way--I don't--but simply because I would love to know what his year has been like.

I write the holiday letter, usually. A couple times, Rob has done a first draft, in years when I was too distracted by other things, but generally, it is accepted that writing the holiday letter is a Peg job. This year, I contemplate the task with very mixed feelings.

I realize that I am very troubled by the fact that I have nothing to report about myself. I am not writing (not writing fiction, I mean, and if you want to read my navel-gazing over this issue, here is the entry). If you have been reading my journal for awhile, you know that I have agonized about this at length, but in the past year, I seem to have let go a little (well, not entirely--my profile page still says that I am working on the ice palace book when in fact I haven't touched it for over a year. I should be honest and take that reference down, but for some reason, I haven't quite been able to bring myself to do it.) To my great grief, I have not been doing anything to progress in karate (not for lack of trying, dammit.). I look over the past year, and I have to admit (and it's a bitter admission) that I have accomplished nothing. Yeah, yeah, I have been a mother and I've kept the home fires burning, and the bills paid and I've bullied family into cleaning up after themselves. But that doesn't fill a burning need I've always felt the pull of, that my life should have some purpose. For years, I thought that purpose was writing fiction. In the past couple of years, I have been slowly letting go of that understanding of myself, and yet I don't have anything to replace it. Right now, when I am looking back over the past year, contemplating writing my letter and thinking, "What have I accomplished?" that central unanswered question haunts me.

What have I accomplished in the past year, really? The biggest thing I can think of is that I am facing the month of November without feeling suicidally depressed--mostly I think because I have been carefully exercising each day out in the sunlight. Do you have any idea what a fucking accomplishment that is, compared to the past three or four years? (And for that to be my biggest accomplishment is--paradoxically--awfully depressing).

I've written some pretty good holiday letters over the years, if I do say so myself. One of my best I wrote when the girls were very young, we were desperate for money, and things looked dreadfully grim for Rob and me. And yet--while being utterly truthful--I managed to write a holiday letter that was sweet and touching and nothing that Miss Manners would have sneered at all.

I don't know what to do with the letter this year.

Comments

[redbird]

Maybe it's Rob's year to write the holiday letter.

[sartorias.livejournal.com]

Can you make a humorous letter--like imagining the mileage you've clocked driving hither and yon, which would be around the world how many times? Because the truth is, this year has been Peg's year to be boosting the girls in their wonderful attainments, like their recently acquired belts...the many, many hours you've faithfully clocked to enable that to happen deserves some kudos, even if in an entertaining letter that ends up mostly celebrating the girls' accomplishments.

Oh yes, another wonderful thing you did was help get that "Send a kid to Space Camp" fun going so that some kids who would not have had that trmendous experience got it--and you could include some of those fun pix you posted.

That's just two of the accomplishments you achieved that I admire you for.

[dreadmouse.livejournal.com]

Those are two great things, and I'm certain there are many others to go along with them. I know they don't go on your own personal list of things accomplished, Peg, but sometimes being the helping hand is all you get.

I think I understand the feeling, though. Despite doing all the day-to-day "mother" things, it's hard not having accomplishments of your own to hug tight and value.

[aome.livejournal.com]

Did you do Karate this year, or was that last year?

You participated in a number of community projects - parades, floats, Sending Delia To Spacecamp, attended some cons, experimented with bento (sp?) boxes, tried some interesting restaurants and dealt with Delia's budding vegetarianism, just to name a few things that are popping off the top of my head. Maybe it's not Earth Shaking news, but they are all things that you did and are interesting to people who did NOT do them. It seems to me this year you worked more at stretching yourself, trying different things, even if just in the short term.

This is the first year that I've contemplated doing a mass letter. Normally I just handwrite short notes, but this year there's been too much with my health, and I just don't want to repeat it over and over. It's not really going to be a cheery newsletter, at least as far as the "Debbie" part goes, but easier. I don't ever have a problem with other people's letters - I'd rather have the news, and don't care what format it comes in.

[aome.livejournal.com]

Also - maybe brainstorming ideas of "What should we put in the newsletter" - for all of you - could net some better inspiration, from Rob and the girls? (Or make them write it! Any of them. They're all old enough.

[stinaleigh.livejournal.com]

Peg,

I think that accomplishment of yours is HUGE. It shows that you are taking care of yourself and thereby being a better mother/partner. You are learning about yourself every time you step outside in the sun. I wish I had your determination about it.

Stina

[satakieli.livejournal.com]

Perhaps instead of writing your section about what you did this year, you could write about what you thought? That's what I tend to do when editing my portion of our annual family insult to Miss Manners, especially when my soundbite activities of the year are too similar to the previous years. Probably more interesting to read, too.

A few years ago, my biggest accomplishment was similar to what you've mentioned. I was ridiculously proud of myself, but far from being an accomplishment that one puts in a holiday letter, it's an accomplishment that one doesn't breathe to anyone. I suppose it's a bit sad that I usually received the biggest accolades for my easiest successes. Probably true for everybody.

[vass]

I don't have any advice, but shit, I know how that feels. I've recently been speaking to some people I haven't seen for a while, and it's really hard saying what I've been doing with my life.

[minnehaha.livejournal.com]

I did a holiday letter once, and might do again, but for this year, we are including a postcard sized note with our two biggest pieces of news, and URLs to more info.

K. [anybody on our flist isn't getting one]

(Just a lurker.)

[piccolo-pirate.livejournal.com]

I've been writing our family Christmas letter since I was about 13 and the responses I've received from family members over the years have been some of the dearest encouragements to continue writing that I've ever received. Would Fiona have any interest in writing your Christmas letter? She might have a different take on how much you've accomplished this year. :)

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

We are in "Hey, timprov didn't die!" year.

I mean, "Merry Christmas, timprov didn't die all this year!" is actually a fairly cheerful feeling. But writing it on cards to my great-aunts, either in form-letter or in individual-note form: umm. Perhaps not so much.

(Don't worry, anyone who reads this: I am perfectly well able, with more sleep etc., to reformulate this into "so glad to have a diagnosis and an approach" chipper holiday letter. It just feels very weird from here.)

Been there, done that --

[alfreda89.livejournal.com]

The biggest thing I can think of is that I am facing the month of November without feeling suicidally depressed--mostly I think because I have been carefully exercising each day out in the sunlight. Do you have any idea what a fucking accomplishment that is, compared to the past three or four years? (And for that to be my biggest accomplishment is--paradoxically--awfully depressing).

Wait until a core theme hits you before you start. I tried black humor once, and was told later by friends that all these horrible things were happening to me, and I was trying to joke about them!

Note to self: Black humor works best when people don't know you've lived it.

It seems to me that a lot of discovery and personal journeys have been made this year by the members of your family. Perhaps that can be included in your letter this year. Good luck with it!

(I have a similar problem. "Good news -- I'm writing again. Bad news...I'm really sick." They won't hear about the second half of that.)

[nmalfoy.livejournal.com]

Yikes. Yeah, this is going to be a hard letter to write. It's easy enough to focus on the girls and Rob. Should you not mention anything about yourself, those who know you will be able to read between the lines, perhaps.

But you're at a crossroads here, and I think you're just now realizing that *something* has to give. And by realizing it, you're nearly there to having it happen.

[loup_noir]

Cut yourself some slack. You may not see all the things you do, but really, you're a very busy woman. Step back. Ignore the things you aren't working on and take a look at what you are doing.

You've been photographing the belt trials at the dojo. You've been losing weight and making a healthier lifestyle for yourself and your family. You've been improving yourself.

It's so easy to let the negatives bog you down. Don't do that. Focus on what you are getting done and try to ignore those other things. Please.

Pour yourself your favorite drink, put on some holiday music, let your mind unkink and dust off the memories of this year. Ask yourself: what has each person in this family accomplished? That's the focus. That's what the holiday newsletter thing is all about.

The new year will be here soon enough. Take some time at the end of this year and establish your goals for '07 and quit beating yourself for not doing enough this year. Your readers can see how much you are doing, and trust me, it's quite a bit.

"It takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place."

[fredcritter.livejournal.com]

I look over the past year, and I have to admit (and it's a bitter admission) that I have accomplished nothing. … The biggest thing I can think of is that I am facing the month of November without feeling suicidally depressed….

As you've already read in this thread, you and I aren't the only ones to feel this way. I think part of our trick is defining "accomplishment" in such a way that we can avoid having any; or, to put it in more gentle terms, we undervalue what we do. I reckon part of the reason I do this is a fairly normal drive for self-improvement which has run amok: if I believe my laurels are weeds and stomp all over 'em, I won't be a bit tempted to rest on them.

I also have a tendency to admire only skills and talents I do not myself possess; to be most impressed by things I can't, don't, or don't believe I can do, or by things done at a level I don't believe I'll ever achieve. "That's easy," I'll think. "Even I can do that. What I really admire—what I'd really like to be able to do—is what she does … what he does … what they do. I could never learn to do that."

I've been working to overcome this tendency, because I don't believe it serves me well, but it's been a long and difficult struggle.

So. Erm. Ah…

It's all well and good to want to accomplish more and to think about what that "more" might be and to consider steps toward achieving it, but I believe this is much easier to do if you are willing to acknowledge the very real things you have accomplished. Heck, you'd probably give somebody else some credit if they'd accomplished "X"—to deny yourself the same credit is just being mean to yourself. <He says … really believing it only applies to people other than himself.>

Um. But you already know all that….

[dreamcoat-mom.livejournal.com]

My mother calls these the "hamster on the wheel" years. Now that my youngest is fourteen, I have the end of my child rearing days in sight, and I'm anxious to get out from behind the wheel of the minivan and see what I'm made of. It's tough going when you are a creative soul stuck in the role of facilitating the accomplishments of others at the expense of your own. I remember marveling at my 20-year class reunion how we had all collectively stopped talking about ourselves, but talked non-stop about our kids. It truly seems to be a universal side-effect of the parenting gig - at least for those of us who work full-time in addition.

As for Christmas letters, I used to hate them like poison, and even skipped them during a few of the bleakest years. But one depressive holiday season I decided to pour some creative energy into it, and came up with a goofy playbill format that friends and family really look forward to now. Any news that's more serious, I put under the heading of "director's notes." Another friend of mine challenges herself to complete their letter in rhyming verse, then just adds a little serious something at the end in her own words.

Friends and family want to know what's happening in your life - or not happening as the case may be. Go ahead and share the fact that you were too busy this year to focus on personal goals. However, I think that improving your weight and fitness took a great deal more time, energy and personal commitment than you're giving yourself credit for. That's big news right there. For many of us it's impossible to carve out the time and summon the energy for it. Go you!

[http://users.livejournal.com/anam_cara_/]

I can sympathize, oh, man, can I ever! Which is why I don't send out annual letters :(

What about having the girls write it this year? And get their perspective on what you and Rob have been up to- you may be surprised, or if not- everyone reading the letter will understand that of course parents don't seem terribly exciting in the eyes of adolescents.

I think even if you just say that you've been just busy with the daily grind and keeping everything afloat, that 1)obviously many people will understand where you are coming from and 2)a lot of people will probably really appreciate your frankness and perhaps feel better about themselves too, if they've had such a year as well. I admit I get terribly envious reading some of those letters year to year (oh, we took 5 months off of our jobs and toured the world, etc.), and sometimes get down on myself even more- reading one that is just ordinary, unapologetic, realistic and that I can relate to, would be really quite nice for once.

[siriologist.livejournal.com]

I'm with you that Miss Manners and Dear Abbey can go stuff themselves about letters. I love getting those yearly letteres and hate hate hate getting cards with just a signature .. what's the point in that??? What does a signature say?

As for your letter...get the girls to contribute! Then add ...you've lost 20 pounds! You managed not to get yourself roped into working for the nightmare boss! You sent one child to space camp. You grew your kids, and kept the DH functional. That's a lot, even though it isn't finishing a book, or completing a belt.

I've come to the conclusion that while babies are more physically taxing, kids that are your and my kids age are more intellectually challenging, AND between that intellectual challenge (how do I motivate, cajole, comfort, and push all without damaging their burgeoning psyche and make them into compassionate humans all at the same time without an instruction book!) there really isn't much brian space or awake time to have much creative inspiration. It's not a personal failing, its just a reality for this time in your life. When the kids were babies, you can nurture, feed, change, play with, and read to and still have vast voids in your brain that allows characters to grow and develop. At this stage, there just isn't room, at least there isn't in my brain, and your schedule sounds a lot more crowded than mine, even.

So write a shorter latter, focus on what you have been focusing on(the girls) and let them contribute.

Good luck and Happy Turkey Day.