Renée Fuller, Ph.D.

Copyright © 2009 by Renée Fuller

     "I had expected the two Wrights would get a real kick out of my invitation to celebrate their joint birthdays at the Inn for that super-duper Sunday buffet brunch. They even brought their two teenage youngsters - although I hadn't invited them." Mattie, a distinguished looking elderly widow looked both puzzled and disappointed.

     Having experienced the spectacular buffet Sunday brunch at the Inn I replied with, "How could anyone not get a real kick out of that Sunday brunch? It's a veritable feast; and at quite a tab - especially since they also brought their two kids. What gave you the impression that they hadn't enjoyed the brunch?"

     "Jocelyn and the kids looked so glum throughout the whole meal. She and the kids barely spoke, even after the very nice birthday cake I had ordered for them arrived. Jake was his sunny self, so his lack of thank you didn't come across as lack of enjoyment. But none of them said 'thank you.'"

     Both Jake and Jocelyn worked on Mattie's house periodically, which is why I wondered, "What made you invite them for that 'super-duper' Sunday brunch?"

     "It was Jake telling me how upset Jocelyn was because her parents, like usual, were ignoring her upcoming birthday. And that, like usual, there wouldn't even be a birthday card. So I thought my invitation would make Jocelyn feel appreciated, and Jake does love good food. I hadn't expected they'd bring their kids. Those kids didn't seem too happy about going to the Inn - although they stuffed themselves." Mattie by now sounded not only disappointed but somewhat irritated.

     I wondered; had her generous gesture been misinterpreted? Had the Wrights just shrugged off Sunday brunch at the Inn as the gesture of a bored and wealthy widow? The reality is that Mattie is neither bored nor really wealthy. She is the owner of a small business, which she runs in a relaxed manner. She had invited the Wrights for Sunday brunch at the Inn because she wanted to give them a treat and feel that they were appreciated.

     Mattie continued with: "You know, by not saying, or for that matter feeling 'thank you', they were actually depriving themselves."

     "How's that?" I asked.

     "That's because when you say 'thank you' you're not only expressing appreciation for what someone has done for you, you're simultaneously realizing that the other person's positive gesture is a reflection of their caring for you, or perhaps appreciating you. Even such a simple gesture as someone holding the door for you implies a recognition of you as a fellow human. And regardless, if what you've been given represents only a gesture or a little present, it's still a token of recognition or appreciation of you as a person."

     Mattie's take on the implications of what "thank you," is really about, struck me not only as interesting, but important. It hadn't occurred to me that saying "thank you" represents a two way street. When later we continued our conversation I said to Mattie: "So what you're saying is that the Wrights by not saying 'thank you' are depriving their youngsters and themselves of the emotional realization that they've been appreciated and perhaps even liked."

     "Yes, and isn't that sad. Because it means that they and their kids are missing out on being aware when people care for them, and like them. I guess that's why their kids, instead of enjoying the brunch, acted like it was a chore and were so glum. The way they stuffed themselves on the great food had a mechanical-routine aspect to it. The pleasurable sharing component was not there. And I guess that's why their enjoyment of that super-duper Sunday brunch was also not there."

     As I thought about it I wondered: what is it about saying or expressing "thank you" that creates such a funny reluctance in many of us? Then I remembered how I too once had a problem. It was with those "thank-you" letters that as a youngster I was required to write to friends or relatives in appreciation of some present or other. What made those notes such a dreadful chore was that you really didn't know what to say. You had to be coached, usually by your Mom, who somewhat exasperated had to tell you word for word what to say.

     But a verbal "thank you" accompanied by a smile should be so easy. You don't have to be coached to be able to say such a simple phrase. Nevertheless, we don't hear "thank you" as much as we used to. Has it gone out of style?

     Perhaps. But then the verbal "thank-you" that was drilled into many of us of an older generation by the very nature of its successful automaticity often lacked genuine meaning. So Mattie's statement that saying or expressing "thank-you" implies a reciprocal relationship was an eye opener for me. How interesting and important that even a small gesture, one which should be receiving a "thank you" implies that you've been appreciated, maybe even liked. And how odd that we should so often miss out on this positive experience - the pleasure of realizing that we've been appreciated, and yes, even liked or loved.

     Is our frequent lack of teaching "thank you" to our children because we want to prevent our charges from becoming too pleased with themselves when they are presented with a positive gesture of appreciation? And as a result we fail in teaching these essential manners-of-the-heart that are linked to the pleasure of being appreciated, perhaps even liked or loved. Is that because we the parents and/or teachers during our own childhood hadn't garnered the satisfaction out of what Mattie had understood: that a "thank you" implies a reciprocal relationship of appreciation? As I mulled over the emotional implications of "thank you" I began to realize that there is an additional component to its reciprocal relationship. And that is: when we don't produce a "thank you" on those occasions that should get one we are subtly, or perhaps even rather obviously, rejecting the appreciation and or the liking that has been extended.

     As I reflected about Mattie's annoyance that her generous birthday celebration of the two Wrights had failed to elicit a "thank you" or even more important was not thoroughly enjoyed, I remembered another, similar occasion some time ago. But on that occasion Rebecca, rather than the mild mannered Mattie, drew a somewhat harsher conclusion. Again it started with a birthday celebration.

     The birthday party was for Lee, a younger second cousin of Rebecca's who owned and ran a local garage. In his usual liberal style Lee took care of Rebecca's cars, picking them up and delivering them after he had serviced them. His charge was a bare minimum, something Rebecca was quite aware of. After some years of this Rebecca decided that more than the usual verbal "thank you" was in order. That was the reason, as Rebecca later told me, for organizing a truly smash up birthday party for Lee.

     Being a successful businesswoman Rebecca had the expertise and the wherewithal to organize a large celebration. Since it was to be a special occasion for Lee, she spent considerable time and funds to make the large party something extra special. Invitations were sent out to neighbors and friends of Lee and his wife Lindsey. As Rebecca told me later, "Everyone seemed to have a great time at the party, especially Lee and his wife Lindsey. However, when they got ready to leave and I approached them with the intent to hug them they turned away with a cold expression on their faces - especially Lindsey. They left without even saying 'thank you.' I was puzzled, wondering if I had done something wrong, something that made them so angry that they couldn't even bring themselves to say 'thank you.' So a few weeks later I called Lindsey and invited her over, figuring that at that time she could tell me what had gotten under their skin. Would you believe it? Lindsey refused my invitation."

     Lee continued to service Rebecca's cars and bring them back to her just as he had before. Everything transpired just as it had prior to the birthday celebration, which was never mentioned. Except that Rebecca's feelings toward her second cousin had changed. Of course like always Rebecca's manners were impeccable. She said "thank you" on each occasion when Lee came and returned her cars. But some years later I understood the conclusion she had drawn when in a decisive voice Rebecca had said to me, "I'm not going to bother either Lee or Lindsey with any further signs of affection or appreciation." There had been a finality in the manner with which Rebecca had made that statement.

     Years passed, and after a life of successful entrepreneurship so did Rebecca. It was shortly after her passing that I remembered, and then realized, what Rebecca had meant by her statement that she wouldn't bother Lee and Lindsey with any further gestures of appreciation or fondness.

     Joan, daughter-in-law of Lee and Lindsey told me how indignant they had been after the reading of Rebecca's will. They had been completely left out of her testament. There was no mention of them. Instead, Rebecca's considerable estate had been left to other relatives who, according to Joan, had never done anything for Rebecca. That is the other relatives had never taken care of Rebecca's cars. But maybe when Rebecca produced one of her parties for them they had happily hugged her and said "thank you." And that as Mattie had explained would mean that both sides had experienced a reciprocal feeling of being liked, of being appreciated - even loved. Being appreciated, liked and or loved is more important than having your cars or your house serviced. It certainly meant more to Rebecca, and also to Mattie.

     Which is why I asked Mattie whether she would celebrate the Wright's combined birthdays in the future - perhaps with another invite to the Inn. Her response, reminiscent of Rebecca's definitive statement, was "No way!" Then she added; "Funny thing you should ask. You know I had intended to make Sunday brunch at the Inn a yearly ritual for the Wrights. They do take such good care of my house. But gauging from Jocelyn and the kids glumness at the meal, and their lack of 'thank you,' my gesture obviously hadn't been appreciated or even enjoyed. In fact Jocelyn and the kids acted like having to go to the Inn for Sunday brunch was a chore, one they would have preferred to skip. So why bother."

     I remembered Mattie's observation that the various forms of 'thank you' entail a reciprocal relationship, a two way street. By saying 'thank you' or implying it with a hug or kiss we communicate that we not only value what the other person has done, but also that we take pleasure in having been appreciated, and on occasion liked or even loved. However, there is that other important component to the two way street. The lack of some form of "thank you" implies that you don't really care whether the other person appreciates you or cares for you.

     And that explains the real reason why Mattie decided that the Wrights would receive no further birthday invitations or gestures of appreciation and caring. On an emotional level she had come to the conclusion that her feeling of fondness and even of affection for the Wrights was inconsequential to them. Their lack of "thank you" brought with it the not so subtle implication that her caring for them was perhaps even considered a nuisance. So why should she waste her time and considerable cash by inviting them again to that high-priced Sunday buffet at the Inn?

     Which gave me an idea. What would happen if someone pointed out to Jocelyn that; "Those acts for which we should say 'thank you' are actions indicating that the other person has valued what you did, that they may even care for you? So that by not saying "thank you" you are depriving yourself of the pleasure of realizing that you've been appreciated and even on occasion liked. Now you may not care to be appreciated or liked by that other person. But are you sure you want to transmit that you don't care a hoot whether that other person cares for you or likes you? That, among other things, is being subtly, or perhaps not at all subtly, communicated by your lack of "'thank you.'" As I thought about exactly how to approach Jocelyn with the above caveat it occurred to me that the best way to reach her was through her two much-loved children, the ones who like Jocelyn had been so glum at Mattie's Sunday brunch.

     Since like Mattie, I too see Jocelyn periodically, that produced the occasion for me to approach Jocelyn with; "You know how hard it is to get kids to say 'thank you' nowadays. So here's something important we can tell them that might finally work: something that would have real meaning for them. It is to explain to them; 'When people do something nice for you, the sort of thing that should get a 'thank you' that means that what the other person has done is a reflection of their appreciation of you - perhaps even liking you. By saying 'thank you' you're actually expressing your own appreciation for being appreciated or liked. However, and this is important, by not expressing that 'thank you' you're depriving yourself of the realization and the pleasure that you've just been appreciated. And having people like you and/or appreciate you is actually real cool fun.' Now Jocelyn note: in describing this to the kids I've left out an important emotional component to the 'thank you' ritual. And that is: by not saying 'thank you' you're actually rejecting the other person's positive feelings toward you; although that may not have been the intention, that is its affect. Important as this aspect of the 'thank you' ritual is, I suspect it may be a bit too complicated and involved for youngsters to grasp. But of course since you, Jocelyn, are an adult, it is not too complicated, nor too involved for you to grasp."

     Did it work? Did the attractive Jocelyn realize that here was the reason why the surrounding community on occasion rejected both her and her two attractive children? When she and her children didn't bother with showing appreciation on receiving a present or being presented with some other positive gesture their lack of a "thank you" led the giver to assume that he/she was being rejected; which was the reason why Jocelyn and her children were in turn frequently rejected. Would she pass on to her two much-loved children the importance of what are essential manners-of-the-heart: even when they masquerade as routine courtesies that often seem inconsequential and therefore unimportant? And yet it is these seemingly inconsequential but essential manners-of-the-heart that could and would make a surprisingly big difference in the lives of both her and her children.

     For some time nothing happened. Neither Jocelyn nor her children expressed some form of "thank you" at the appropriate occasions. Three times, on three different occasions I softly and very politely reminded her of the missing "thank you" and its importance. Finally, after I had all but given up, feeling that my attempts represented a lost cause, it happened. It was a response to a small Holiday present I had found for her - a present that although inexpensive was a little celebration of Jocelyn's successful cooking enterprises.

     No, she didn't say "thank you." But the look of joy on her face and the immediate hug that accompanied it was the real thing. She had finally allowed herself the pleasure of knowing that a simple present had been meant just for her; that the giver cared for her, Jocelyn, and got her this present, which had been intended for no one else. It was as if Jocelyn had suddenly been liberated, allowing her to tap the magic that is the "thank you."

     And Jocelyn's two much-loved children? It was some months later that the local school administrator, Mr. Segall, and I had a grousing session about the deterioration of human relationships. It didn't take long before our grousing began to center on the deterioration of manners. Like many of us of the older generation we bemoaned the slippage, if not the outright disappearance of manners - a slippage that implied that manners, especially manners-of-the-heart, are of no importance.

     "Oh, and are they ever important! We've got a marvelous case in point." Mr. Segall the school administrator laughed delightedly as he said this. "Our two schools have these two good-looking kids who used to be such glum and down-in-the-mouth youngsters. Never mind what you did for them, how much you helped them, their response was always the same glum shrug. But in the last few months something changed with both of them. None of us can figure out whether it was something at home or what happened. But all the teachers are commenting on it. The two Wright youngsters, who used to be such downright morose and gloomy specimens, have sprouted this cheerful look. Now, when you do something for them they respond with such a happy smile and an actual 'thank you.' None of us can figure out what happened. Is something different at home? Both parents are solid citizens. As far as our local community knows, and as you know ours is a community of busy bodies, there's never been any marital discord. So we just don't know what created the change in the kids. But it sure is welcome. Whatever happened, I wish it were catching."

     I think I know what happened. It was Jocelyn. She had successfully shared with her children her own happy emotional understanding of the magic that comes with "thank you."

__________________________________________