Saying Thank You

Local readers: I will be at Burgundy Books in East Haddam tomorrow (Sunday, January 13) at 4PM, promoting Get Satisfied. Please come!

Pragmatics

-If your thank you note skills have gotten rusty, here’s a good primer.

-Still feeling stumped? Here are sample notes for all kinds of occasions.

-Here are some tips to encourage kids to write thank yous. For the beginning writer, they make fill in the blank cards—Mad Libs for etiquette!

-I liked this blog by a young woman with diabetes. Obviously challenged by the demands of the disease, she devoted her space to wholehearted thanks this past November.

-I recently saw some troops in the Memphis airport. Regardless of my feelings about the war, I saw their young faces and was struck by how much they are sacrificing. Check out the Gratitude Campaign’s video on saying thank you to these brave men and women.

Prose

After every celebratory event of my young life, I was strongly encouraged, ordered really, to put pen to paper and write a glowing thank you note. This practice has slipped a bit in recent years – I often let a phone call or e-mail suffice. But this year I’m savoring the thought of sitting down with my fresh packet of blank holiday thank you cards.

I’ve already received some thank yous. Aunt Norma penned the first note. She has always been the note writer, signing Uncle Jack’s name first, except now there is no choice in the matter. Uncle Jack suffers from dementia and Norma carries every task imaginable these days. Life has not been easy, from young married farm life through present health concerns for both of them. But I feel Norma’s irrepressible spirit when she writes of her “deep appreciation for our many blessings”. She also reminded me, as Jack turns 80, to “Spend some time enjoying life and togetherness. Time is so precious…”. My mom’s notes echo the same sincere thanks to a family that she loves deeply.

Tom’s sister Corlyne would not rest until she knew that Gavin’s package had arrived. I think of the many long-distance family members who phone in orders, wrap packages, and wait in line at the post office thinking of us. Christmas morning is peppered with their phone calls, some reunions with folks we should call twice as often.

My mom needed help to haul our gifts up the steps this year. She always manages a true surprise, this year a noisy electric guitar for Gavin. He picks it up at least once a day, and every “riff” recalls Christmas Day and his loving “Nanny-Jean”.

Our neighbor Mr. Dube is often a “wave-to” neighbor. Each year flies by, and we see him less when the cold weather sets in. But he is faithful in his pre-mass Christmas Eve visits, always wielding an oversized toy for Gavin and wine for the grownups. He also remembers Gavin’s February birthday, when I recall waving down the driveway to him while in labor, panting, “we’re off to the hospital, finally!”

This year’s thank yous don’t feel like obligations. They feel like a meditation on the many blessings that surround us, in the form of people who genuinely care. I guess I’ve got Aunt Norma’s and Mom’s appreciative genes, a gift I treasure more than any other.

The Sanctuary of Sleet

WEATHER NOTICE: Today’s book signing at Burgundy Books has been postponed (new date to be scheduled soon—stay tuned).

Today’s book signing was postponed, a wise decision as the roads look pretty slick. It’s possible we’ll venture out later, but for most of the day we are “iced in”. Disappointed at first, I am coming around quickly to being grateful for the “enforced” home and family time.

I am reading The Year of Living Biblically, by AJ Jacobs. I admire this writer’s open mind. He is not religious-leaning but has a lot of curiosity about biblical rules and their origins, and he manages to remain open-minded about even the most archaic sounding dictates.

In one scene, he manages to lock himself in his apartment’s bathroom. No one is home, and he goes through the usual aggravation before finally settling down and awaiting his wife’s return. This 4-hour confinement leads, ultimately, to some rather profound thoughts. He writes, “I know that outside the bathroom, the world is speeding along. That blogs are being read. Wild salmon is being grilled...But I’m OK with it…I’ve reached an unexpected level of acceptance. For once, I’m savoring the present.” Jacobs realizes that this is what the Sabbath should feel like: “A pause. Not just a minor pause, but a major pause….a sanctuary in time.”

This is a speedy season. Despite pacing myself, there’s still that December 25 deadline to consider, cards that must make it on time, packages that must get shipped. True, the world won’t dissolve if things arrive late, but as in my work life I always feel compelled to hit those deadlines.

So this enforced Sabbath, albeit a real reformed version, is a welcome break for my family and me. I’ll give Gavin a long bubble bath later, and we’ll put up the tree that waits on our front porch. We’lI wrap our nieces gifts so they can ship to Florida on time. Yes, an orthodox Sabbath observer would be unlikely to do even these things, for they still involve work of a sort. But to us, this is a pleasurably slow day in, tasks done at leisure rather than at hyperspeed.

This is the second involuntary change in plans in 2 days. Extended family needs left us drained, and we decided not to push ourselves to the church pot luck and variety show last night. Instead, we grabbed the last pre-darkness hour to chop down our tree at Joe’s Christmas Tree Farm right here in Deep River. After a frigid walk and chopping our spruce, we sat on hay bales around the fire and roasted marshmallows, surely Gavin’s favorite part of the outing. Another unexpected break, another much needed mini-Sabbath.

I think interruptions, be they snow storms, cancellations, or mechanical failures, deserve a second chance especially during this season. They may contain a message, or at least some respite from the daily grind. Wishing you “sanctuaries in time” that allow a deep breath, a reflection, some much needed rest.