‘Tis the season of thank-you notes, basic childhood preparation for essay writing. The purpose of the letter is followed by specific examples with detailed supporting evidence followed by a final thought. When I was little, my mom made me write thank-you notes, and I’d sit and stare at the rectangular white cards with the silver embossed twirly Thank You on the front. The entire process filled me with dread. Periodically, my mom would check on me and say, “Get writing” which was followed by threats of no playing, eating, or living til I was done. Man, I hated that.

I’d neatly arrange the cards into straight piles, sharpen my pencil, adjust my seat, and imagine raindrop patterns on the window and discover cool designs with lines on the palms of my hands. Tracing the freckles on my arms led me to examining each fingernail’s unique shape and size. My mom’s desk concealed secrets to her world – domed slots housed neatly stacked bills, and I’d silently and clandestinely open and close each tiny drawer to reveal lipstick, mints, an embroidered handkerchief scented with perfume, a rosary, a paper-pressed shamrock from Ireland, and other amazing treasures.

I’d wonder who made up this thank-you note rule, and I’d scheme about what I’d say to this big person:  Listen Mister, my Aunt Aggie and Uncle Jim love me. They didn’t give me that First Holy Communion check to make me sit here all day and write this. Or Mrs. Cronin is the nicest lady in the world. Does she know you’re making me do this?

Today, I’m happy my mom put me through that torture. As an adult, writing notes focuses me completely on the recipients, the shared experiences, the moments of laughing, crying, and helping. I’m left with an overwhelming sense of gratitude for having this person in my life. The thank- you note ends up being a gift to me.    

Last week, I started a note to my boss to thank him for his generous Christmas gifts, but got interrupted and later went for a run. While out there, I thought about how lucky I am that Jon trusts, encourages, and truly wants the best for me. He is patient, kind, humble, and wise. He supports my dreams, accepts my idiosyncrasies, and smiles at my jokes. He genuinely wants me to grow as a person, teacher and administrator. I reflected on the leadership and conference opportunities he has provided which led to thoughts of his homemade pumpkin cheesecake at Christmastime in the Deans’ Offices. This “if you give a mouse a cookie” mentality truly uplifted me. By the time I sat down to complete his note, I was all in. I mentioned how Brendan, Kevin and I enjoyed lunch at Panera with his gift card, how Tim and I loved the bottle of wine on Christmas Eve, and how nice the soap looks in the bathroom. All of a sudden, I was happy about returning to work this week after Christmas break.

Thank you notes are tricky that way.

P.S. TGIF.