I am haunted by the thank-you cards I have not sent. By the ghosts of presents past.

There's the one that should have gone to Avis for my wedding flowers in 1997, or to Sharon for the birthday cake in '99—not to mention the 15 or so that were supposed to go out in May after my daughter Savannah turned 1.

I used to be better about getting them out. I've had parties and little pick-me-ups from friends, and I promptly followed up with a card. I missed the one to my friend Avis only after hundreds of cards already had been sent. After I ran out of my preprinted wedding notes, and after too much time had passed, I was too embarrassed, but I never forgot I owed her one. and part of me has always been afraid that she never did, either.

These days, I've accepted that I have TCI (thank-you card issues). It is a condition marked by obsession, delay and a great deal of guilt about the ritual of thanks. I'm not sure how I got it. I feel that I'm always dashing, dancing, and putting out fires. A part of me longs for the days when a thank-you card at a birthday party for a child too young to write was unnecessary.

It is a post-modern lament Judith Martin has heard before.

"I have no sympathy for the idea that an expression of gratitude is a burden on your time," says Martin, who writes the nationally syndicated "Miss Manners" column. "And thank-you cards are the form for doing it. It's not enough just to have the sentiment. You have to convey it."

When I was young, my mom always stressed the ceremony of thanks, and my grandfather often reminded me that people don't have to do anything for you, so you must show gratitude.

It seems that I have to address some of my long-overdue cards now.