Dec 1, 2023 — In the last years of the good long life of our Cardie Oma Hannlis, she lived just down the hall from me in this wee building on Miami Beach. Every Friday, she’d enlist a helper to run to the grocery and grab a pretty bunch of flowers, which she’d then present to me as pleased as if she’d grown them herself. I recently came across a little bundle of the dear messages of “Thanks!” that she’d tucked into those bouquets and, wow, reading them, I felt loved and appreciated all over again.
Bright and early on this past Thanksgiving Day, my friend Masha came by with a dozen gorgeous roses and a lovely note that she and her great mom, Luda, had penned. Reading what they’d written gave me such a good feeling. An hour later, when I popped by my friend Maureen’s, I could tell Masha had been there … there was another bright batch of roses, complete with its own enclosure. And what do you know, at Pamela’s traditional Thanksgiving cocktail party that evening, I spied a third dozen with a minicard tucked among them, too!
It was fun to see Masha and Luda’s thoughtfulness blooming so beautifully in three different homes. And because the bouquets were identical, it struck me that what made them each seem so distinct and meaningful were the heartfelt messages tucked inside. Each enclosure, in its own way, said, “We see you. We appreciate you.”
This week brought the sad and shocking news that my first business partner had lost her battle with colon cancer. Before I ever dreamed of creating Cardthartic, Lynda and I built a Chicago-based public relations agency. In 1992, she bought my half of that business and I started this one, and all these years after we’d gone our separate ways, I still cherish a gift she gave me.
Hearing the news and feeling her family’s loss, I pulled out the card-sized copper box that she’d so thoughtfully had embellished with chunks of my favorite gemstone — turquoise, representing truth and courage — and etched with spirals, the ancient symbol for growth and transformation. It was and is amazing. What has always touched me most, though, is the minicard she’d tucked inside. I opened the box lid yesterday and there it was beneath a sprig of still-fragrant dried lavender. I could easily have cited the short message Lynda had penned more than three decades ago now — it meant that much to me — but I wanted to see her words in her handwriting again. Written in cursive as smart and elegant as she was, “To Jodee — Whose love and attention has changed my life.”
Not all the minicards we give or receive in our lives will be keepers, but some prove to be small but mighty indeed.
Jodee Stevens
Founder & Chief Creative
Dec 1, 2023 — In the last years of the good long life of our Cardie Oma Hannlis, she lived just down the hall from me in this wee building on Miami Beach. Every Friday, she’d enlist a helper to run to the grocery and grab a pretty bunch of flowers, which she’d then present to me as pleased as if she’d grown them herself. I recently came across a little bundle of the dear messages of “Thanks!” that she’d tucked into those bouquets and, wow, reading them, I felt loved and appreciated all over again.
Bright and early on this past Thanksgiving Day, my friend Masha came by with a dozen gorgeous roses and a lovely note that she and her great mom, Luda, had penned. Reading what they’d written gave me such a good feeling. An hour later, when I popped by my friend Maureen’s, I could tell Masha had been there … there was another bright batch of roses, complete with its own enclosure. And what do you know, at Pamela’s traditional Thanksgiving cocktail party that evening, I spied a third dozen with a minicard tucked among them, too!
It was fun to see Masha and Luda’s thoughtfulness blooming so beautifully in three different homes. And because the bouquets were identical, it struck me that what made them each seem so distinct and meaningful were the heartfelt messages tucked inside. Each enclosure, in its own way, said, “We see you. We appreciate you.”
This week brought the sad and shocking news that my first business partner had lost her battle with colon cancer. Before I ever dreamed of creating Cardthartic, Lynda and I built a Chicago-based public relations agency. In 1992, she bought my half of that business and I started this one, and all these years after we’d gone our separate ways, I still cherish a gift she gave me.
Hearing the news and feeling her family’s loss, I pulled out the card-sized copper box that she’d so thoughtfully had embellished with chunks of my favorite gemstone — turquoise, representing truth and courage — and etched with spirals, the ancient symbol for growth and transformation. It was and is amazing. What has always touched me most, though, is the minicard she’d tucked inside. I opened the box lid yesterday and there it was beneath a sprig of still-fragrant dried lavender. I could easily have cited the short message Lynda had penned more than three decades ago now — it meant that much to me — but I wanted to see her words in her handwriting again. Written in cursive as smart and elegant as she was, “To Jodee — Whose love and attention has changed my life.”
Not all the minicards we give or receive in our lives will be keepers, but some prove to be small but mighty indeed.
Jodee Stevens
Founder & Chief Creative
Such a beautiful story Jodee about the people who love you! Grateful to know you — even a little bit!
Nice to go back & reflect on the thanks you received from your special friends & neighbors.
Jodee – noone deserves it more than you.
Jodee, so sorry about the loss of your first business partner Lynda. So glad you saved her mini card, even though you knew it by heart. Those short but simple cards touch our hearts and are always treasured.
Jodes-Love never dies but it is so, so dreadfully hard to let go of the “never” part when you lose someone you love. There is nothing like being able to hold something in your hand and in your heart, and to read it over and over again. So sorry for your loss of such an old and dear friend.
Jodee, I was sorry to hear of Lynda’s passing. You’ve spoken so fondly of her in the past and I know it is a loss for you. Your newsletter was wonderful and reminds us how meaningful just a few words can be.
Take good care and honor your emotions,
Nancy