Found Treasure — Memories

After my father died, boxes of memorabilia were left for my sister and me to sort. One day, while looking through the bits and pieces of my family history stored in the large, sweet-smelling cedar chest, we came across one particular dusty box containing memorabilia from my mother's side of the family. 

My mother's side of the family was always a curiosity. She was an only child of two only children, and when they were gone, no one was left to answer the questions never asked so long ago. They lived far away, and we did not see them often. The box I held in my hand was a window into the past and their lives.

Clearly, my grandmother’s generation were savers. There was much to learn reading through dry, yellowed clippings carefully saved in albums by my grandmother. Details of weddings and funerals were so detailed that you could see the bride and know the history of her dress and the lace handkerchief she carried. You knew who was at the reception, what they ate, and what kind of flowers were on the tables. Details were important.

The obituaries offered wonderfully detailed histories of those who had died and, for me, filled in some empty slots in our family tree. Also in the old box were notes written over the years on beautiful stationery in graceful, loopy handwriting from someone remembering an occasion or a gift or simply a congratulatory message.

I couldn’t help but think about this lost art — those thank-you notes and long, newsy handwritten letters. So many of the traditional social graces have been left in the dust of computers, communication by e-mail, voicemail, and the cell phone. We are all in such a hurry to get places, to move information. Efficiency is our goal, not graciousness. 

Yes, I am guilty of using all the tools of instant communication. My thank-you notes are often by e-mail or forgotten in my busy days. I sense both my well-mannered grandmothers chastising me for this thoughtlessness. In a recent conversation with a friend, we recalled the social graces that were so much a part of our childhoods. Curtseys, bows, personal notes, hostess gifts, and dressing for special occasions are all rare today. We were taught to ask, "May I?" and always to say, "Thank you." As children, we were seen and not heard.

We may have grumbled as youngsters as we were reminded to mind our manners, but we knew what was expected of us. Many of us now miss the thoughtful respect that was part of those social graces we were taught as children.