In Praise of Thank-You Notes

I am on record as a serious Christmas enthusiast.  Christmas was never more magical than during my childhood, and yet an unpleasant task loomed during the most wonderful time of the year-- writing thank-you notes.  My parents were strict about enforcing their thank-you note policy at Christmas, birthdays, and other occasions that resulted in presents.  I dreaded sitting at the kitchen table with a stack of blank note cards.  I was not allowed to simply write, "Thank you for the [blank].  I really like it.  Love, Herself."  My parents insisted that we compose proper, personal notes.  It was ridiculous how overwhelming a few letters could be.  Some years I secretly created a template from which to work, modifying it slightly for each recipient.  I tried the trick of increasing my penmanship size.  The Dude had the advantage there, as his standard writing was much larger than mine.  When cards with pre-printed sentiments on the interior were mixed in with blank cards, The Dude and I would race to snatch them up.  We were especially depressed when white lined paper was our only option.  Suffice it to say, I would have been delighted if my parents had abandoned their thank-you note policy.

I am not sure at what point in time I went from being forced into writing thank-you notes to writing them on my own, and ultimately to placing a great deal of value on the giving and receiving of thank-you notes.  I am grateful that my parents got me into the habit of writing them, and I am super judgmental of people whose parents evidently did not do the same.  Now instead of feeling dread upon seeing a stack of blank thank-you notes, I feel anxious until I have crossed each recipient off my thank-you list.  When I complained about having to write thank-you notes when I was little, my dad explained to me the work that went into the presents I received.  He wasn't just talking about the effort a person makes to choose the right gift.  He told me that the person who included a check inside my birthday card may have had to work several hours to earn the money given to me.  Maybe because my dad had a physical job that required him to walk for miles in humid summer weather and in freezing winter weather, the idea of a someone spending hours of his or her day working for my benefit stayed with me.

Three decades into my thank-you-note-writing career, I am now militant about them.  My favorite advice columnist, Emily Yoffe from Slate's Dear Prudence, is similarly rigid about writing thank-you notes.  I've quoted it before, but this line from Yoffe is a personal favorite:

"My mail would indicate that many people who receive gifts think the thank you note is passe.  Which I think allows the gift giver to decide that as far as future gifts are concerned, you'll pass."

When I get a hand-written thank you note these days, I immediately add a check plus into the space the sender occupies in my brain.  An easy way to gain my favor is to send a thank-you note my way when the time is right.  Likewise, I range from disappointed to infuriated when I do not receive thank-you notes.  (Not sending a thank-you note for a wedding present?  SERIOUSLY?!)

In my search for articles about thank-you notes, this was the best I found.  I'm more extreme than the author, as I think a thank-you email is kind of cheap-- though still far better than no thank you at all.

Thank you to my parents, who taught me etiquette and gratitude.  Thank you to my family and friends who reinforce those early lessons with their good manners.  

Jimmy Fallon writes thank-you notes every Friday night.  You can crank a few out each year.