On the Art of Thanksgiving

Is etiquette really dead?  I finally got around to finishing the thank you cards from Peanut’s party.  I don’t like to write thank you notes.  I’ve never been really good at it.  There are some people who know how to truly graciously, genuinely, and sincerely produce a thank you note.  Mine still feel the same awkward clumsy way they did when I first started writing them as a kid. 

Just like when I was six, it’s like pulling teeth for me to get it done.  Except this time, there’s no mom telling me to do it—and no cookies waiting for me when I get it done.  My husband even says that I’m the only person left in all of society who writes the silly things any more.  Yet there I am, with the little cards, the three to four sloppy handwritten lines and my signature, one by one adding up.

Why don’t people write thank you notes anymore?  Why don’t people handwrite anything anymore?  So is etiquette a dying or even lost art? I hope not. I think there is something to be said for putting your gratitude in writing.  I think there is something important in taking that extra step to let people who obviously care about you, know that you care in return.  I’m sure Peanut will hate me for doing it, but when he’s a little older, he’s going to start signing his own thank you notes.  A few years after that he’ll start writing his own.  Whether he continues to do so as an adult, I won’t judge.  But he will at least know how to write one, and he’ll know why it’s an important tradition to continue—even if he’s the last person in society to do so.