Sunday, December 25, 2005

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

10 comments:

Anonymous said...

I have always had hard time with thank you's too, always wanting to dismiss it,take away its meaning, not accepting that people do listen, but I'm getting better.

So to you my friend I say thank you, thank you for being part of my life, more than you will ever know (hugs)

Merry Christmas Liz(again LOl)

"ME" Liz Strauss said...

Hi Mergrl,
Thank you for being back again. You're such fun to say Merry Christmas to. :)
Thank you for thanking me for thanking you.
Liz

Anonymous said...

Thank you for thanking me for thanking you

:0)

you are very welcome my friend!

glad I wandered back over, always a good way to end my evening..with a friend (hugs)

and no I'm not gonna say it again LOL oh ok I just can't help myself.....Merry Christmas LOL

"ME" Liz Strauss said...

And a Merry Christmas to you.
Sometimes, we can be silly.

Smiles,
Liz

Anonymous said...

I'll keep my preamble short and get to the good part. *grin*

Thank you, Liz who burns bright, sees deep and lives peace.

Thank you for enduring me. Can I open it now?


Garnet

"ME" Liz Strauss said...

David,
What lovely, large laugh out loud your message gave me. It's the first thing I read this morning. A wonderful Christmas gift. Merry Christmas Daivd. You are not an endurance. You are a dear friend.
Liz

Anonymous said...

...a very Merry Christmas to you too! Thank you for dropping by my blog :-)

"ME" Liz Strauss said...

Hi Stargazer.
That photo was so beautiful at your blog. I so enjoyed seeing it.
Merry Christmas to you.
Liz

Anonymous said...

There is an awkwardness about expressing a thank you, and it does revolve around our ability to convey our thanks in a genuine way. I think we try too hard sometimes.

Man you have such an incredible way of expressing feelings and emotions that we all share. Thank you.

"ME" Liz Strauss said...

Hi Lori,
It's always surprising and healthy for me to find out how many share these feelings that I thought were things that were "wrong" with me.
"Thank you" is harder to say sometimes than "I'm sorry."
smiles,
Liz