https://www.ft.com/content/b2ebb99a-cfea-465f-93ff-0ea8ed6bfac5
It was a print card and letter. It had to be couriered of course. “I remember our postman,” he would say “you can’t chat to a drone, you can’t wish them a happy Christmas”. The letter was always the same, news of the family, family snaps, a year in review. Everyone got the same one, a different edition each year. We used to read them. I’m not sure how many of the others did. It’s sentimental possibly, but family is important. Sharing memories, telling stories. I always felt I could hear his voice talking to his Agent as they wrote.