In the days of yore when most written communication took place via mail, it was always a pleasure to open the mail box and find a handwritten note. If there was a return address, that was usually a clue as to what the letter concerned. Thank you notes were part of common courtesy and I suspect there are many readers who suffered the same childhood irritation as I did after Christmas.
My mother would sit me down on the 26th of December with pen and paper supplied and a list of addresses to which I was expected to write a thank you note. My budding talent as a wordsmith was not apparent. All the notes were the same scrawl: “Dear Granny (or whomever), Thank you for the present. Sincerely, Hayden.” I suppose it was enough to satisfy my mother because she dutifully sent them off and I was done with that chore for another year. Birthdays didn’t require notes.
Her efforts must have paid off because as I matured, I still wrote the notes, but with a little more thoughtfulness. Then I began to expect notes from friends and non-resident relatives to whom I had sent a gift. As friends married and wedding gifts were sent, the note writing took another turn. They fell into three categories: You never got a thank you note leaving you to wonder if the gift had ever arrived. The second type was barely better than the “thank-you-for-the-gift” efforts of my childhood. Then, there would be the third form that not only was thanks for the gift, but a little news about life after the wedding.
Even no note is better than one remark we received from the bride-to-be as she opened our gift, a handsome imported casserole dish. A distant relative, she said, “Well, look at this thing! I can’t imagine what I will do with it, since I have no intention of cooking.” We all looked at one another and thought that’s going to be an interesting marriage.
In later years I learned the importance of notes in general, not just the thank you variety. A note of appreciation for a kindness delivered is a special treasure. We don’t do kind things to get recognition, or at least that’s not a very good reason for the action. When someone receives such a note, it is a real day brightener, especially when it’s a total surprise.
A letter of support to someone who is going through a difficult time means more than most can possibly imagine. I have had people tell me, “I wanted to write, but I didn’t know what to say.” Just saying you care about what they are going through is enough.
One of my mentors in my postgraduate medical training taught me a lesson that I have never forgotten. When a patient died, he would send a hand-written note of condolence to family. I took up that practice, and to this day, decades later, I occasionally run into someone who tells me how much such letters mean. In losing my own family members, a note like that has brightened many a dark moment.
Now, of course, we have email, e-cards, Facebook, twitter etc. to carry out these communications. It lacks the personal touch that makes notes so special, but it’s certainly better than nothing. A verbal thank you with a phone call may suffice, but I don’t get a lot of satisfaction from a text message.
So after the holiday clutter is cleared, let’s remember an acknowledgement of thoughtfulness; however you deliver, it is a good deed in itself and my mother would recommend it highly.
Hayden Hollingsworth