“Thanks for coming!”
Maybe you’ve heard or said those words recently or often in your life.
I sure have. I’m a “thank you” sayer.
I’ve thanked police officers after pulling me over and even said thank you to another driver who hit my car in a parking lot.
To be fair, the thank you was at the end of our interactions after the accident. I was thanking the man for taking responsibility, working together as we filed the report, etc.
But still … I thanked a stranger who just backed into my car. Think of that.
I believe saying thank you is both important and beneficial.
The older I get, the more I want to thank people for the things they do, for their time, for sharing an experience, or even just being a part of my life.
Saying thank you tells someone they are valued and that they matter.
I’ve been noticing a certain type of thank you more lately, like the times I’m told, “Thanks for coming.”
That type of thank you is one of my favorites.
Last winter I went to a junior varsity hockey game that my friend was coaching.
After the game my friend sent me a short text from the locker room saying, “Thanks for coming,” realizing that attending a JV game in which I know none of the players would not otherwise be on my to-do list.
Sometimes when I attend LHS events, I’ve had parents say, “Thanks for coming,” as if I were there to watch only their child. Of course, I’m there to support many students, but I appreciate the sentiment just the same.
Showing up matters and showing appreciation to those who show up matters.
When I attend my niece’s and nephew’s youth sporting events, their mom sometimes reminds them to tell Uncle Jason thanks for coming.
A couple of weeks ago, my niece thanked me for coming to her lacrosse game without her mom around. She’s learned well.
Last month I went to Junior Legion baseball games that my friend’s son was playing in. Isaac was the only player I knew, but it was fun to see him play and spend time with his parents while watching.
And he knew I was there to support him.
After the game we went out for pizza with his team and their families. While there, Isaac sat with his teammates, and I didn’t get to talk to him much.
As I was leaving the parking lot, though, I put down my window as he walked toward his dad’s pickup. He looked over, gave a big smile and said, “Thanks for coming!” (without his parents telling him to).
That thank you sure felt good. I knew that it mattered that I drove to his games that day, that I matter to him and that he knows he and his family matter to me.
Showing up matters. People matter.
Thank you for coming, indeed.