My only resolution for 2007 is to write thank-you notes. That may not sound like much to you, but for me it's big. Pamela Anderson big. My aversion to writing thank-you notes is as irrational as it is firmly ingrained. I would rather do anything -- wash the dishes, clear out the basement, prepare and eat a glass sandwich -- than sit down at my desk with a prim little stack of notecards and a gift list and begin, in Emily Post fashion, my post-Christmas good-girl deed.
Why my soul rebels against this small act of politesse remains a mystery even to me. My mother nagged me to do it as a child, but she also nagged me to make my bed and brush my teeth -- both of which I'm happy to do everyday.
It isn't because I'm not grateful. I love receiving presents. Who doesn't? Like a sentimental fool, I treasure even the silliest tokens of friendship and goodwill. I'm not generally the type to return or exchange gifts, particularly from loved ones, as I honestly believe it's the thought that counts. And such thoughts ought to be formally acknowledged, I know. And yet . . . I just can't get my act together. But this year is going to be different.
The first step in my note-writing reformation is to seek guidance from an expert. I purchase a copy of The Art of the Handwritten Note: A Guide to Reclaiming Civilized Communication by Margaret Shepherd. This dainty little volume (printed, fittingly, on fine creamy cotton paper) offers advice on overcoming excuses and procrastination in the face of putting pen to notecard. Described in her bio as a "noted calligrapher," Shepherd opens her book with a handwritten note thanking her readers for choosing her work. I feel miserably inadequate before hitting the introduction.
Perhaps it is precisely that feeling that prevents me from doing the correct thing in the first place. Among Shepherd's list of commonly cited excuses for not writing handwritten notes are, "I don't have the right kind of stationery," "my handwriting is terrible," and (my fave) "I don't know what to say."
Yes, it's ridiculous that a word-churning newspaper columnist like me, who has so much to say in print to anyone who will listen, would have such difficulty thinking of anything to put in writing to my close friends and family -- but there it is. I just don't know what to say. "Dear Granny," I begin. "Thank you for the box of Stove Top instant stuffing . . ." And that's about it. No colour lead, no anecdote, no climax or clever sign-off. Just thanks for the stuffing.
Which, as Shepherd knows, is not good enough. A proper thank-you note, in her estimation, has five key characteristics: It is generous, specific, prompt, succinct and personal. And on the subject of thank-you notes for Christmas presents, she is particularly firm: There is no getting off the hook.
"You and the person you exchange holiday gifts with deserve to receive thank-you notes from each other. One gift does not 'cancel out' the other, it creates an opportunity for both people to express their gratitude for a shared friendship. In a way, the gifts themselves are not as important in your friendship as the thank-you notes that result."
Just to think, all those years I've been agonizing over gifts for my loved ones -- researching, shopping, spending, crafting (okay, not that last one) -- and the only thing that really counted was the thank-you note, which in the majority of cases I entirely neglected to send. How's that for feeling inadequate?
Thank goodness it's never too late for a little gratitude. As Ralph Waldo Emerson said, "Life is not so short but that there is always time enough for courtesy."
With this sentiment in mind I venture out in search of writing materials -- a surprisingly pleasurable experience. Having recently moved from my apartment into a house, I now live in a neighbourhood whose commercial strip consists of nothing but stationery shops and boutiques selling specialty fountain pens with organic ink. Need to pick up some toilet paper or drop off your dry cleaning? Forget it. Send an elegant and stylish thank-you note as a gesture of your gratitude and appreciation? You're set.
In a jiffy, I am sitting at my desk in my new office, with a stack of pretty blank cards beside me and a gift list to the side of that. Taking up my special new fountain pen ($12.99 imported from Switzerland) I begin: "Dear Granny, Thank you for the box of Stove Top. I probably shouldn't have written that line about your stuffing being soggy in my column the week before Christmas. I was only joking. I hope my column about thank-you notes makes up for it. I'm trying to be polite and gracious these days. Much love, Leah."
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