Christmas Thank You

Ever since I was a small child Christmas has been a time of crossed wires for me. The excitement and wonder, the lights and surprises were everything they were for every child and more. It was the “and more” that was a bit electric.

Everything meant so much to me, each bit of tinsel, each cookie crumb, was such a miracle. Every kind word touched me so. Every grown-up’s smile had such meaning. Each gift I chose had to be special. Every gift had to be just exactly, perfectly right for the person. Oh what a pest I must have been. When my Aunt Dorothy took me shopping all over the city of Chicago we had to find the right color—the exactly, perfectly right color—blouse for my mother.

Years later it was still the same. I searched hours to find the exactly, perfectly right gift for my younger, older brother—only to be tearfully disappointed when he opened the gift from me when I wasn’t there. He had followed tradition and opened the gift on Christmas Eve as always, despite the lack of my presence. I was twenty-six years old then. I wasn't there until the next day. He didn’t understand my reaction. I couldn’t explain. Still can’t. I don’t know why he didn’t wait for me.

Finding the right words to say “thank you” has been the hardest of all. To get past my fear that someone might not believe me has made those two words the hardest any I’ve ever had to say. Learning to talk past my self-consciousness to express gratitude is a learned skill at best. It’s something I suppose most folks will never understand, just as my younger, older brother didn’t understand why I was disappointed that many years ago.

All these words are my preamble, my warm up. I’m still not a natural at saying “thank you,” but I do know how and that people hear me. I’m learning how to say how much people mean to me and how their gifts make my life richer, fuller, and more worth living.

Finally, I understand the value of, and the need for, the words I’m saying.

Thank you.

—me strauss Letting me be