My mom was a stickler for thank you notes. Anytime my brothers and I received anything from anyone, we knew there would be a thank you note involved. At the time, I didn’t appreciate the importance of thank you notes. I just wanted to get on with enjoying whatever gift I had been given. Didn’t Aunt Florence know I was grateful for Vanessa, the Cabbage Patch Kid she sent me for Christmas? Didn’t Grandma Fisher know that the purple Izod sweater she gave me for my birthday made me feel like the coolest girl in school? Why did I have to express my gratitude in written form?
Somewhere in my late teens the act of writing thank you notes became second-nature. Receive a gift? Write a thank you note. Be the recipient of a kind gesture? Write a thank you note. My mom had trained me well.