Gratitude does not speak for itself
The day after the accident, a package landed on our doorstep. Mrs. Scrumpy, always one step ahead, had already ordered me a pair of Skechers slip-ons: no laces, just slide in and go. With one arm in a cast, there was no way I’d be tying my own shoes for a while, but she’d already solved that problem before I even realized it existed. She thought of this, even while we were still in the hospital, and honestly, I was impressed.
To thank her for everything, I took her out to dinner at Gastrobar 6, a small restaurant in the center of our hometown Den Bosch. Medieval building, stone walls, and a few tables. It felt intimate.
We chose the four-course wine-and-dine experience. The sommelier came for every course, bottle in hand, sharing passionate stories about the wine.
Once we’d ordered, I raised my glass and thanked her for changing my bandages, running the household, carrying everything I couldn’t, ordering those shoes before I even knew I’d need them, and making those twice-daily hospital visits. Most of all, for being there for me unconditionally.
She tried to shake it off at first, as we all often do with compliments. To her, it was obvious. We are married, for better or worse, so this is what you do. I would do the same for her, no doubt.
I agreed of course.
But that was not the point.
Sure, it makes sense that partners support each other, but let’s be honest, it doesn’t just happen by magic. It takes effort, attention, and the choice to show up again and again. The shoes, the daily visits, the quiet acts of care: these are the things that matter. I could see her light up, just a little, as she finally let my gratitude sink in.
It is easy to take the people closest to us for granted. Because we have adapted to their presence. The things they do become standard in our lives, always there, rarely noticed. Until something changes, and you see everything clearly again.
Most of us are experts at spotting what’s missing instead of what’s working. It’s almost like our brains are wired to find the flaws first, whether it’s in our marriages, our friendships, or our teams at work. In Scrum, we make time for retrospectives every cycle, always looking for ways to improve. But let’s be honest, the question ‘What went well?’ is often the first to get skipped. When we forget to notice the good stuff, the effort goes unseen, and after a while, people start to wonder if what they do even matters.
That is true at work and at home.
So go ahead and say it. Even if it feels obvious. Even if they wave it away. Even if you think everyone already knows. The people who care for you are choosing to show up, again and again. When you acknowledge that, you give their effort meaning, and that meaning is what keeps us all going, especially when life gets tough.