Tonight my grandparents gave me a check for 1/2 the price of my new car. And when I got it, I thanked them. And throughout the entire evening I kept looking for opportunities to thank them again, a stronger thanks, a more heartfelt thanks. And half a dozen times I found the right moment, the right pause, and I could not act. I don’t know why.
The words “thank you” come so foreign to me oftentimes, and I constantly ponder why. I think the expression seems to simple, so…so contrived. It is only appropriate at certain times. But what times? And this money for the car, I am so tremendously appreciative of it, so happy that I will have my own car, that I will have the independence it represents, and that my grandparents have given it to me, just because, because they love me.
And I love them, and I can’t express it by saying “thank you.” But this isn’t about me! It’s about them! They want to hear the words, so I should be able to say them, no matter what I think of the words themselves, because I love the people, and I want to make them happy. And to express my love. And yet I can’t.
I feel so angry with myself, but those words are just so hard to say. Is it because I hope that I express thanks through my actions? Is it because I hear “thank you” a hundred times a day for the most simple and routine of actions? I. Don’t. Know. I do know that I didn’t thank my grandparents, and that is a very bad thing.
Grandma and grandpa, thank you.