thank you notes
Dear lady selling tutus at the outdoor market in downtown Portland: thank you, thank you, thank you.
Last year, when I was feeling unexpectedly sad about leaving Florida– a location I wasn’t real thrilled about when Dmitri first mentioned that a move there was imminent–my (brilliant!) friend Sameen suggested that, for Lily’s sake and also my own, I get into the habit of writing short and sweet thank yous to each of the places that we live as a sort of record for our family. I agreed, of course, that she was onto something– and then, of course, I promptly forgot about the plan until, oh, yesterday afternoon.
Thankfully (ha, ha), an hour spent poring over the daily entries at http://thxthxthx.com/ definitely jogged my memory. Today, I’ve been thinking about the people, pets, unexpeted interactions and even the inanimate objects that definitely deserve more thanks than they receive, and because we’ve already started gearing up for another move, I’ve been trying to capture– in writing, of course– the gratitude I feel for all of the incredible places that Dmitri’s aviation gig has allowed us to experience.
My first note was easy:
Dear Pensacola, FL
Thank you for kind strangers, good friends, real Southern hospitality, beautiful beaches, Publix grocery stores, and our tiny, tutu-wearing girl.
My second attempt was more difficult because our time there was a challenge, but it felt really nice to tie a bow around Mississippi and move on:
Dear Meridian, MS
Thank you for
frogs in toilets a beautiful forrested running path, proximity to the unexpectedly amazing cities that are Birmingham and Tuscaloosa, and Shirley at the commissary who always demanded to hold Miss Lily when my hands were too full of groceries. Also, thank you for (very) limited distractions and lots and lots (and lots and lots!) of time.
Dear Corpus Christi, TX
Thanks for our townhouse with carpet (for our just-learning-to-crawl-and-walk girl) and a back yard (for our dying-to-run-after-squirrels girl). Thank you, too, for great BBQ, decent burritos, and the nearly 70 year-old spinning instructor whose tough classes regularly made me regret the previous evening’s BBQ or burrito. Or (pan full of) brownies, while we’re discussing things that begin with “b”. But perhaps we are most thankful for you because you have been our post-cocoon re-introduction to real life– and it’s been pretty darn wonderful.
I’m not entirely sure what the next few years–or months, even–are going to look like, or where we’ll be, or whether the landscape will be exactly what we’re used to. But I do hope that, regardless, we’ll remember to give thanks for the seemingly insignificant little things that make all of it– even the not-so-easy stuff–pretty amazing anyway.