My Sentimental Madness: Why I Love Cards

I have always loved sending and receiving cards whether in the mail, on holidays, or randomly as a surprise. I find them oddly personal and meaningful, even if they’re from my local CVS.

I find I am with the minority on this one. Guy is not very sentimental, and at first found it odd that I have a box of old cards that I keep and go through sometimes when I’m feeling happy or sad, to negate whichever emotion I’m feeling and throw myself into a tizzy (it’s hard living away from family!).

Ultimately I blame my mother for this nostalgia for my own life and the people in it. She’s an emotional person and I absolutely am too. However I blame my father for my emotional iron grip on things as simple as cards. He has a poor memory, and I have definitely gotten that from him in the genetic process.

My memory is so poor that I literally rely on simple reminders of people to bring up waves of emotion regarding events I might have forgotten otherwise. And I’m in my TWENTIES! I don’t have a hard time with short term stuff, I get through the day perfectly fine and efficiently, but I forget things in the past really, really easily.

I can remember that I had a birthday party last year, but without looking at pictures or asking Guy I have a hard time remembering what we did. Was it on my actual birthday? Was it the following weekend? Did we go somewhere alone? Did we go as a group? Did I enjoy it?

I’ve had to explain this to Guy, that he can’t be offended when I genuinely can’t remember what he got me for Christmas a year ago. (I do have a secret list running of gifts, because I don’t want him to feel like those things don’t matter.) But it’s still hard to sound aloof when it comes to things worth remembering.

I’m a cluttery person and a frequent photo taker, and these feelings of needing small reminders to remember big events in my life are enough to justify keeping a box of old birthday cards in my closet. I cherish them and love them. Some have the signatures of my grand parents passed, or friends I’ve grown away from over time. If my memory of them fades, I want to have those tokens left to remind myself, on a semi-regular basis, that they’ve existed.

/emotional admittance to the voice

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