It’s not my birthday anymore.
You missed it.
I didn’t say anything at the time because I know you’ve had a lot on your minds, like a pandemic and stuff. So I’m trying not to take it personally.
Besides, you’re not the only ones who didn’t note the anniversary of my existence.
I know this because two years ago, I received 99 birthday greetings on Facebook, and this year, a mere 77. I’m just following the data, because that’s what long-term care people do.
Looking back to Facebook’s early days, it was oh-so-tempting to measure one’s value by how many birthday acknowledgments you got. But that was only until we realized our alleged “friends” were being automatically reminded, which significantly devalued the gesture.
That’s when I started appreciating birthday texts more, since it required personal action, thus building a case for possible sincerity.
But even that’s become suspect. My phone buzzes with birthday greetings from virtually everyone. My car dealer. My insurance agent. My hairdresser. My parole officer. It means little at this point.
Now my valued birthday circle has shrunk to those willing to use their actual voices to call, and for bonus points, to celebrate in person.
Two of my eldest friends showed up last year in the wintry teeth of COVID to hand a piece of carrot cake with a candle in it out of the car window. That heartfelt, anachronistic gesture meant more than any number of questionably sincere social media well-wishes.
So here’s my suggestion to long-term care leaders: Maybe it’s time to go old-school in encouraging and honoring your staff.
I had a college professor who sent complimentary notes in triplicate using a now-obsolete technology called carbon paper. One copy went to the target of his appreciation, one to that person’s boss, and one to that boss’s boss. When you got one, it really meant something.
More than ever, employees need to be acknowledged, and know you mean it.
When someone does something well, take time to tell them — with your real voice — and ensure those up the chain hear it, too. Write a note, with a pen, and make a copy for whoever they report to.
In these hyper-automated days, make an obvious, analog effort.
