I am a personal person. I REALLY like personal things. I like giving little bits of myself to other people, and I love when other people give parts of themselves to me. I love things that are homemade. This takes on a lot of forms. I have one friend who brings me after-church treats. As I load my kids in the car for the 25 min drive home, after wrestling 3 boys through the 3-hour block alone as my husband is off on assignment somewhere in the state, I would probably sell my first born for a cookie. She knows this and passes me off a slice of key lime pie, a mini loaf of chocolate chip pumpkin bread and makes my day.
Really though, I appreciate that extra bit of heart in a lot of ways. I love depth in conversation. I like to talk deep. I like to talk about ideas and experiences. I have a hard time getting through without referencing a study or something really interesting from NPR or the New York Times. I love it when people listen to me, when they remember those things going on in my life, when they get excited with me over accomplishments or upcoming events and trips. I love it when they tell me about their ups and downs and great ideas. And compliments… who doesn’t love those? I don’t often forget a very sincere compliment. They go in a special place in my head (kind of like that top drawer of my 6-year-old’s dresser where he keeps all his school prizes, found money, and piñata loot) and they get stashed there for rainy soul days when you need a little validation.
Then just today I came home from Christmas vacation and found a surprise package in my mailbox (it contained treats—are we getting a theme here?), a sincere note, and cards of a friend’s sketches. It was the most welcome thing as I had just enumerated to my husband somewhere along the New Jersey turnpike on our drive from Virginia back home to Massachusetts that what awaited me at home was a list of the most dreaded mom tasks imaginable—cue unpack from vacation, post vacation grocery run, post office, library, laundry, Christmas décor take down, 2 week mail sort, and an accumulation of business tasks. My night was made supremely better by this personal offering.
I have practically lived the last month in the fleece pajama pants sent recently along with a stay-warm-this-winter note from a dear friend who jumped ship after a decade and a half in New England and moved to the Pacific Northwest. It was her way of saying I love you and I miss you and I know exactly what your next few months will be like.
I could go on and on about the friend who is known for her handwritten notes, homemade cards, sewing creations, or the one who sends the best birthday video messages, or the one who dutifully comments on your blog.
A few months ago, as the RS presidency member talked about the pies that would be served for an upcoming event, I leaned over to a friend and said, “I love pie—I want all the pie to myself,” to which she responded, “You want a pie? I’ll make you a whole pie.” “Really?” I was shocked. Pie baking is a labor of love. Sure enough, that Wednesday night there was a homemade pie waiting just for me. I was so excited—downright giddy—my own pie! It made my day; it made my week. I know, here I go again with the food, but it’s a trademark L Graff thing.
At a regional conference at BYU one of the speakers said, “Our love is often lazy in its failure to individualize.” This thought has stuck with me for these past 14 years. It reminds me to put in that little extra effort, to use my agency to make life better for others. It’s amazing how the smallest things are really what make our days worth living. So here is to wishing you all a personal 2012.
What is meaningful to you? What simple, personal things have made you day?
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