Hallmark Love

Maybe we were old-fashioned and living in the dark ages. But our primary means of communication was the (hand)-written word.

We exchanged countless cards and letters. As our friendship deepened, the stationery changed from notebook paper (very safe and unassuming, you know) to the “close friends” section at Hallmark to my first mushy Hallmark Valentine (I was so busy reading everything he wrote that it took me a while to realize I’d just been sent a Valentine by the man I loved!).

My man must have been the best customer Hallmark had in their Gold Crown Club. During the year right before our marriage I know I got at least two Hallmark cards in my mailbox every week, sometimes more. In fact, I took to buying cards anywhere but Hallmark because I was sure that otherwise we were going to end up sending each other the exact same mushy card.

Hallmark cards always had just the right little message to say what he couldn’t, or the cutest picture he’d say reminded him of us. The best ones were the nearly-blank ones that he filled to the margin with his dear familiar scrawl.

It was with a sickening feeling that I heard our favorite card company was marketing cards to the homosexual community. And my husband’s birthday was coming up. Where was I going to buy him a card? The Christian bookstores seem to have failed in the romantic greeting card department. The messages are always so carefully worded to sound spiritual that it’s impossible to find that scandalously mushy card just right for your husband’s birthday or to accompany that little item you bought him for Valentine’s Day. Maybe those super-serious cards have their place. But I think he’d rather read serious, respectful words from my own hand. And of the two cards we give each other every occasion, I like to have at least one be really mushy or funny.

So last week found me once again at Hallmark. It wasn’t going to do me any good to boycott the place. They’d blame low sales on the economy, not on their newest line of cards. Besides, if all the Christians refused to shop there, they’d seem to be selling more gay and lesbian “wedding” cards, not less.

The owner of our little Hallmark store recognized me, and commented on how my baby girl was growing. She talked about how my husband used to be in there all the time buying cards to mail me. I didn’t have to tell her I was disappointed in Hallmark’s new line of cards. My husband and I are a living example of the definition of marriage. And our daughter is a living testament to that fact.

Hallmark still sells “It’s a Boy” and “It’s a Girl” cards. And incidentally, those are only necessary in the marriages of a man and a woman. Homosexual couples don’t seem to propagate very quickly. Hallmark just might discover that they picked a dwindling market. (Not to mention one that is illegal in many states.)

I picked out a scandalous card about my man being my knight in shining armor. And one with a cute picture of a little boy and girl swimming, containing the message “we’ll always be the cutest couple, even when we’re wrinkly.” Yes, Hallmark still has the corner on cute, romantic cards. And monogamous heterosexual marriages still have the corner on health, happiness, the cutest kids, and the most longterm need for Hallmark cards–everything from the mushy to the grandparent variety.