Two Little Words and a Cranky Widow

I was picking up lunch at Wendy’s in between Zumba Class and getting my new hubcap---that really isn’t a hubcap---installed on my car when I got annoyed at myself for thanking the guy at the first drive-up window for giving me my change. Am I the only one who still remembers when service people thanked you for your business? I hate it when I feel compelled to “close the deal” with the obligatory 'thank you' when people at takeout windows fail to say it. That's the way I was taught to do it in my teens when I was on the other side of the retail counter but kids, today, seem to be trained to believe customers should thank them for taking time away from their flirting with co-workers to wait on us. At the second Wendy’s window, as a girl handed me a junior bacon cheeseburger she said, "Have a nice day!” Oh...why didn't I think of that? I’m on the way to a funeral but I’ll try to have a nice day. My house is going into foreclosure but I’ll try to have a nice day. A friend is getting his leg amputated today but I’ll try to have a fricking nice day! Okay, I’m going to pretend I didn’t write this paragraph because I’m starting to sound like a crotchety old woman who beats puppies with her cane, begins every other sentence with “in MY day," and stir-fries kittens for dinner.

I didn’t go to a funeral that day and my mortgage was paid off two years ago but the son-in-law of my best friend was getting his leg amputated while I was at Wendy's. The patient, a young guy with twin toddlers and a daughter a few years older, has been cancer free for four years but the surgery to replace his thigh bone with a cadaver bone never healed. His only hope for a normal life, not dictated by pain management was to amputate. As sad as his plight has been, it’s also been a joy to see my friend’s amazing and supportive core family, extended family and church family all pulling together to support his daughter and son-in-law through it all. There are, of course, other families around like his but we don’t always appreciate their specialness or say out loud, “Thank you! Thank you for living your faith and values even when times are hard. Thank you for passing those values on to everyone in your sphere of influence. Thank you for being the best of the best role models." My husband and I always thought of our friend as the son we wished we’d had and it’s been a long time since I’ve told him that. Note to self: Do it soon! I’m not getting any younger. 

I don’t know, maybe hearing a string of insincere thank-yous at takeout windows dilutes their meaning when it comes to expressing heart-felt feelings so deep they make you teary-eyed just thinking about them....but I doubt it. How else do we express appreciation for everything from a stranger picking up something you dropped to a friend being the awesome person that he is? An online dictionary says ‘thank you’ is used “for telling someone that you are grateful for something said or done” but shouldn’t there be degrees of ‘thank you’---little thank-yous for takeout windows and huge THANK-YOUS when someone makes a real difference in their world?  Ya, I know, that's what adjectives are for, Jean! I can say, "A supercalifragilisticexpialidocious thank you, T.C.!"  Oops, I don’t think I used that word correctly but I have a strict rule that I only look up one word per blog entry so hit me with your best admonishment if supercalifragilisticexpialidocious is not a proper adjective.

The Dalia Lama is fond of saying, “The roots of all goodness lie in the soil of appreciation for goodness.” I believe that. I believe we need to acknowledge goodness when we see it. I believe goodness is all around us, even in our darkest hours. And I believe few of us say the big thank yous as often as we should. They're such little words but if you believe the Dalia Lama they help the seeds of humanity grow. They make us feel appreciated, that's for sure, and they're probably needed more in the world today than ever before. So here I am writing this sugar shower to the son I wish I had to thank him for the things mentioned above and for having such a goofy sense of humor that he lights up every room he enters and for being the one and only person who would unabashedly cry with me after Don died.

Thank you to everyone still reading this essay. You may be interested in knowing I've made a promise not rag on myself the next time I say "thank you" at a takeout window. I'll just practice saying it small, no adjective needed. You may also be interested in knowing I have no funny or wise words to end this 'Sunday Sermon' but I do want to assure cats lovers that I could never, ever get hungry enough to stir-fry kittens. ©