My mom and dad taught my sisters and me that manners were important. Please and thank yous were big deals. Mom, like most moms, did the bulk of the instruction. Dad supported her words with his actions. He held the door open when we entered a store and helped mom with her coat. He went so far as to adjust the shoulders of her green dress coat a time or two. Details were important. He wanted her to be as pretty as possible.
When I think about it, he helped a lot of women with their coats. Sometimes he was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek. The kisses may have driven his actions, but down deep he was just trying to be polite and do the right thing. Mom provided instruction. Dad modeled good behavior.
They both believed a simple thank you was important. I think they thought their three children’s actions were a reflection of them. People would recognize they were doing a good job raising their children. They weren’t looking for lots of accolades but believed having good manners was an important part of life. I think they were right.
I graduated from high school in 1965. I wasn’t a great student. I did just enough to get by. I think my GPA was about 2.25. It was good enough to get into college but not all colleges. I didn’t need them all. I just needed one. I chose Kalamazoo’s Western Michigan University because they had the coolest mascot of the schools that accepted me. It was a bronco. That wasn’t a good reason to choose Western, but it turned out to be a great choice.
Mom and Dad hosted a graduation party for me in our backyard a couple days after graduation. That’s when people learned that I planned to go to Western. I received some money and gifts. Mostly gifts. Mom must have thought I’d need luggage when I went off to college, because that was my gift from my parents. I also received a set a John Kennedy bronze bookends from someone. I still have them and see them every day.
My Aunt Phillis and Uncle Harry gave me a Carmel colored briefcase. It has my name on it. I say “has” because I still have it. It’s stored in a trunk in my Michigan family room. I ran across it the other day as I was curating my Michigan condo. It’s going to go, but it’s still there now. Sixty-one years is long enough.
I also ran across a thank you that I’d sent to my Grandpa Barner. It’s in a stack of curated papers. Mom must have run across it after Grandpa died and saved it for me. It was written on a ditto master that Mom brought home from work. I was getting ready to go to Western and hadn’t written any thank yous. That wasn’t polite. I wrote a long letter to the world outlining my plans for my future. I was going to become an attorney, followed by a United States Senator and then a writer after I retired. I whiffed on the attorney and Senator goals, but I do write a bit.
Mom ran off a pile of dittoed thank yous, provided me a list of who gave me what for graduation that she’d kept, and had me personalize each thank you with a reference to each gift I received. I sat at the kitchen table and she supervised my work. She bought the envelopes and the stamps, but I had to do the writing and licking because envelopes and stamps had to be licked in 1965. Writing thank yous was the polite thing to do.
That may have been her last official act as my mother before I went off to college and claimed my independence.
My granddaughter, Eva, graduated this year. The owner of the restaurant where she works hosted a graduation party for her. He provided the venue but David and Lindsay bought the food and decorated the place. My California kids flew in for the party and my two sisters, and their kids were on hand as well as Ruth’s sister, Kathy. Eva received some gifts, but I think mostly money. I’m very sure she didn’t get any bronze book ends or a briefcase with her name. She did receive at least two very special gifts.
My sister, Sharron, regifted a rocking chair that Ruth and I had given to her several dozen years ago. She had it refinished and attached a note explaining its origin. It turned out very nice.
My sister-in-law, Kathy, made her a quilt. The quilt featured artwork that Eva had created over the years. Ruth had saved the art and wrote a personal note to Eva. Ruth and Kathy had the artwork and the note transferred to pieces of fabric that were used to make the quilt. The entire process began years ago. It was Ruth’s idea. She died almost four years ago, but Kathy came through with the quilt.
After the party, Eva wrote thank yous on her own. Her mom and dad didn’t tell her to do so. My sister, Sharron, called me the day she got hers. She was in tears. She said it was the most beautiful thank you she’d ever received.
Kathy’s been moving from house to house and state to state for the past few weeks, so I don’t know if she’s received one yet. If not, I’m very sure she will.
As for me, I received mine. This is what she wrote:
Dear TGO,
Thank you for the unconditional love that you have shown me. I am so proud that I’ve gotten you in my life, let alone being your granddaughter. I am a wearer of many hats but being your granddaughter is one of my favorites.
There are many memories that I have with you that I will never forget. Like riding the roller coaster at Legoland and walking slower when we walk with the family so I could talk to you longer.
You’ve made such a large impact on my life in so many ways. The lessons I’ve learned from you, and stories I’ve listened to, remind me that as we age, we can still learn and grow, try new things and life keeps going no matter how hard it gets.
You are my grandpa but a lot of the time you feel more like a friend. One of my favorite things to do is just sit and talk to you. I love you more than I can explain. Thank you for always supporting me.
With love, Eva
I love you too.