I bought four greeting cards this past week to replenish the collection I’ve amassed to send people for various occasions. All four were sympathy cards.

Back in my 20s, I bought lots of cards to send friends and family for their weddings, and then for their new babies or homes. As the years passed, I needed more cards for special anniversaries and, eventually, for people’s retirements. Now I have a growing need for “get well” and “thinking of you” cards, along with sympathy cards.

I keep all of the cards in a large accordion folder. They’re organized in plastic baggies for each category. Birthday cards fill the biggest bag, by far, followed by blank cards, which I’ve collected from various places.

I still have some “thank you” cards but don’t use them much anymore. A few years ago I switched to e-mail messages or texts to thank people.

My German grandmother would not have approved of this. She was a stickler for written acknowledgements. If my sisters or I didn’t write and mail her a thank-you card within a day or two after receiving a gift from her, she would call my mother and ask why not. My mother, in turn, made sure we did, if only to keep her mother off her back.

So I developed my habit at an early age, which was undoubtedly what my grandmother intended. I never came close to being as prolific as Princess Diana or President George H. W. Bush, who were both legendary for sending lots of thank-you notes and personal notes. Nor do I write them as often now as some relatives and friends. But I’ve maintained my stash of cards and postage stamps, one of the few cases in which I still choose paper over pixels.

With some notable exceptions such as Taylor Swift, that’s not true of most younger people, who do everything electronically. I’m delighted when one of my children or nieces sends an actual card in the mail, but I’m also happy to get a text or e-mail.

I’ve learned to not expect even this. When Champa and I were serving as Peace Corps Volunteers in Moldova, we hosted a few dinners for fellow volunteers, most of whom were in their twenties. They had a good time but often didn’t bother to thank us by e-mail afterwards. I understood they were busy and had different attitudes towards etiquette, but I couldn’t help thinking: “You don’t have thirty seconds to write us one sentence?” Now that we’re back home, I feel the same way when we send someone a gift and never hear whether they received it, much less liked it.

I know I sound like a cranky Boomer about this, so maybe I should look for some “Get off of my lawn!” cards. At the very least, I need to be wary of letting it turn me into my grandmother.

If I’ve played my cards right, though, you’ll respond to this post by sending me your sympathies. When you do, please remember that only blue ink and black ink are acceptable.