Past, Present and Future are in the Cards

If weight gain, the odd grey hair and fatigue aren’t enough to signal my firm entrenchment in middle age (sneaking ever closer to senior citizen status), then the section I’ve come to frequent in the greeting card aisle is a dead giveaway.

Yesterday I purchased not one but three sympathy cards. In the past few weeks, two friends have lost parents and one a sibling. And so I found myself in the sympathy section of the card aisle, looking over their selection of bereavement cards.  It’s always tricky to chose the right one. Though I’m religious, the recipients may not be, so I have to walk that fine line between comfort and uneasiness.  There are very specific cards for mothers, brothers, fathers and sisters. There are even cards for the loss of a pet, though I’ve yet to buy one of those. I tend to shy away from anything that rhymes; it just seems wrong in this context. And though I’m a writer myself, I try to select cards that convey the sentiment for me, since the loss of a loved one seems to leave me at a loss for words.

It seems like a lifetime has passed since I bought an engagement or wedding card.  In my twenties and thirties, I felt like I was visiting the card store every other day.  The progression rarely varied: A “congratulations on your engagement” card, followed by a card for the bridal shower and then one for the wedding.  In no time, I’d return to buy the “You’re expecting!” card, followed by a baby shower card and then a card commemorating the actual birth.  The cycle repeats itself for second marriages and subsequent children.  In hindsight, I should have bought stock in Hallmark.

Over the years, the wedding and baby cards began to taper off, and I’d find myself frequenting the ‘milestone birthday’ section, searching for just the right card for my friends turning 40.   There were funny cards depicting prune juice and Geritol, flattering cards lamenting the recipient’s lack of wrinkles, and the out-and-out lie cards (“40 is the new 30!”).  Ten years later, I notice there are fewer choices among the “Hey, you’re 50!” cards.  Maybe it’s because there’s less humor in turning 50.  Maybe we just don’t want to be reminded.

And so now as I approach 50 myself, I’ve become a connoisseur of “get well”, “encouragement” and sympathy cards.  Many of my peers are dealing with the illness or death of a parent, a sibling or even a spouse.  As I stood in the card aisle, looking through their assortment, I noticed another woman, about my age, sifting through the same selection.  We kind of danced around each other as we vied for space, and when she caught my eye, I smiled awkwardly and said, “I can’t believe I have to buy three different sympathy cards”.  “Yes,” she replied, “I have to buy two myself.”  There’s comfort in numbers.

As I carefully made my choice, I suddenly remembered that one of the friends who had lost a parent recently is also getting married next month.  With a thankful sigh, I left the bereavement section and began looking over the wedding cards as well. 

It may be the last wedding card I buy for a while, so I’d better make it a good one.