I’ve had very different notions of what it means to get CARDED.  Sometimes, my understanding was based on age, where I was at in my life.

When I was attending Knox College, I was afraid of getting carded at the Downtown Lounge, needing to prove I was of legal age to buy liquor. More recently, when I ask for a senior rate at the Cineplex, I worry about getting carded in case that would mean I wouldn’t qualify for reduced rates.

Oh, how embarrassing it would be to get carded—and busted—for lying about your age while a line waits behind you, eager to buy their tickets.

I just celebrated my sixty-third birthday this past week.  Besides loving Thanksgiving and what it represents, I have another reason to cherish the end of November.  It’s my time.

Of course, being carded at this time of year has a completely different meaning.

Being CARDED now is about birthday cards. I love getting them.

Yes, it’s nice to see short messages on my Facebook timeline.

And my adult nieces—it’s nice to get texts from them. Maybe the date is on some sort of personal alarm system, but it’s a nice thought anyway.

Maybe some people would like to slap me with an OK Boomer citation, but I still value something I can touch (not a virtual version of an object via screen display). I like getting things in the mail that aren’t bills, solicitations to give to a charity or to try a new credit card.

I enjoy receiving and displaying birthday cards.  Starting a week before the actual date and running a week after, a few square-shaped, colored envelopes will turn up in my mail box.

I will display my collection in a prominent place in my home.

For me, they’re much better than Christmas cards, even ones that contain a year in review page, including photos. Notes written in birthday cards are not the same for everybody.

Although I recognize that some people send out cards from a personal inventory acquired when they go on sale. They still go through a process of selecting a card for a specific person.  Maybe they look for a color or message or type of humor that suits the person having the birthday.

Other people will pick out a birthday card after pouring through racks or driving to a favorite store where they feel they have a good variety.

I like this idea a lot; that someone would spend time to find a way to communicate to me that they recognize we have a special relationship and I’ve enriched their life.

My friend Lin sent me a card with cartoon animals on the front along with the teasing set-up, “So a bear, an alligator, and a pig walk into a bar…” Once I opened the card, I was told, “That’s it.  No joke.”

This was funny to me.  I have a sort of twisted appreciation for things that are unexpected.  That she knew I would find this amusing shows that she understands me.

Laura, another special friend I grew up with that has been living in another state for a long time, sent me a dog card.

I don’t mean it was a dog of a card, as in “worn” or “damaged.”  Rather, an adorable pooch, wearing a conical party hat, is on the front underneath the main caption, ”All I need to know about birthdays, I learned from my dog.”

The card lists many life lessons from the perspective of a close pet, the first being “You were born to be loved,” and ending with “Paws and reflect on what life has given to you” especially resonated.

She knows how strongly I feel about my dog India and what our bond means to me, also the importance I place on reflection and gratitude.

I love getting birthday cards that were picked out especially for me.

Feeling known is no small thing.