Giving Thanks--Again?

I say thank you all the time.  When I receive a gift, when I am passed the salt, when I am served in a store, and even at the end of a phone call when I have agreed to something and the caller should be thanking me, I end the conversation with a chipper, "Thank you!"

It's how I was raised.  My father, a saloon-keeper, swore like a sailor, but ended every transaction I witnessed with a gentlemanly thanks. My mother, who could outgrinch the grinch, almost always added a grudging thank you after interactions with customers at the E Z Way Inn.

St. Patrick's Elementary School encouraged/enforced politeness.  At Bishop McNamara High School, "Thank you, Sister," was a reflex even if accepting a demerit for a plaid pleated skirt rolled up at the waistband exposing one's knees.

Say 'thank you' we teach our children from the time they can babble.  Even if a relative they don't know has gifted them a lint-covered butterscotch pulled from a pocket--an ancient hard candy that we will snatch away as soon as we are safely out of sight--we instruct our toddler to “thank auntie.”

We thank people in uniform for their service, we thank waiters for refilling our water glass, we thank drivers who wave us through at a four-way stop. We thank a god we may or may not believe in when we escape danger.

Then, on a Thursday in late November, Americans share a story about an early harvest celebration that is, if not a complete lie, a dangerously embellished tale meant to encourage family togetherness and, of course, thankfulness.

I admit to "thanking" too often, too automatically, and too randomly.  This year, starting with this Thanksgiving holiday, I am going to try to change that and make an effort to thank honestly. 

I will thank the people in my life who have helped me and gifted me with their friendship and generosity.  I will thank those who have loved me when I am at my most unlovable. 

And I will thank those that share their stories, the stories that get me through every day. Stories that teach, that remember, that appreciate--those stories are the breath of everyday life. And you who participate in our virtual community here at Storied Stuff?  You who write and read and browse and share--and who have done so since we opened our virtual doors in May of 2020?  You are among the most "thankworthy" of all.

Thank You.

Sharon