I can never pass a cat in the street without greeting it and exchanging a few words, and the cat invariably replies.

–Patricia Moyes, How to Talk to Your Cat

I’ve been known to greet a cat in the street or a ground squirrel along the path or a family of painted turtles stacked on a fallen branch in the shallows or–well, you get the idea. I’ve been known to greet just about any living creature that crosses my path. At my age, I have no shame about speaking aloud or stopping traffic. To greet is the polite thing to do, after all.

Just the other day, I was driving on the highway in southeast Iowa when I met three Amish buggies. Each man, woman, and child waved vigorously as I passed, and this made me happier than I can say. The recipient of so many hearty waves, I felt like a million bucks, like someone worth a flurry of unsolicited morning waves. Shawnee warrior and chief, Tecumseh, advised that we should [a]lways give a word or sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend, or even a stranger, if in a lonely place. Though most of us wouldn’t admit it, we often find ourselves in lonely places. So, a friendly word or wave is just the thing to illuminate our darker spaces.

Called the one of the best new traditions in college football, “The Wave” occurs between the 1st and 2nd quarter of Iowa Hawkeye home football games when nearly 70,000 at Kinnick Stadium stand and wave to pediatric patients in the University of Iowa Stead Family Children’s Hospital, which looks over the stadium. In his September 2017 report, “Meet the woman who helped make ‘The Wave’ happen,” Forrest Saunders (KCRG-TV9) identified Krista Young, a mother of three residing in Anita, Iowa, as the impetus for beginning “The Wave.” She posted the following on a Hawkeye fan page in May of that year:

I think with the new U of I hospital addition open. Kinnick should hold a “wave to the kids” minute during every game.

And the rest is history. Tune into any home Hawkeye game, and you’ll see a whole lot of waving: from Kinnick Stadium to the families and kids in the Children’s Hospital and back again. It goes without saying that there’s something particularly powerful in such a purposeful pause during an athletic event that draws thousands in person and millions on television. You can find sanctuary in the “Wave”, for in this moment, athletes, spectators, families and sick children come together in hope.

And what about those who are fools for enthusiastic greetings, even misguided ones? That is, if I had a dollar for each time I waved furiously at an oncoming car or passersby–only to realize that this wasn’t at all who I thought it was–I’d be a wealthy woman today. But maybe this doesn’t matter at all. Maybe all that truly matters is the spirit of the greeting, which generally blesses the unintended but nonetheless deserving. Actor and comdian Jimmy Fallon knows a thing or two about such greetings. Thank you … motion sensor hand towel machine, he jokes. You never work, so I just end up looking like I’m waving hello to a wall robot. I’m here to tell you, Jimmy, that there are legions of us who’ve found ourselves flapping our hands in front of broken motion sensor towel machines. We may be forced to air-dry, but we rarely fail to amuse the public restroom crowd!

A good greeting can be as formal or informal as you like. The moment I hear my grandson Griff open the front door, I’m yelling, “Hey, bud!” I’ve been greeting him this way for as long as I can remember. And his greeting in response? “Hey.” We get each other. We need few words to acknowledge that we’re happy to see each other. In E. B. White’s classic children’s book, Charlotte’s Web, Wilbur, the pig, learns there are, indeed, all types of greetings:

And, just as Wilbur was settling down for his morning nap, he heard again the thin voice that had addressed him the night before. “Salutations!” said the voice.

Wilbur jumped to his feet. “Salu-what?” he cried.

 “Salutations!” repeated the voice.

“What are they, and where are you?” screamed Wilbur. “Please, please, tell me where you are. And what are salutations?”

“Salutations are greetings,” said the voice. “When I say ‘salutations,’ it’s just my fancy way of saying hello or good morning.”

You may prefer a nonchalant Hey or perhaps a hearty Salutations. Regardless of your choice of greeting, however, I’m guessing that, like me, you simply like to be greeted. A greeting of any sort is an ordinary yet powerful means through which you know you’ve been seen and welcomed. In a world in which we may find ourselves feeling more and more like aliens, a heartfelt greeting seems essential.

Sometimes in the moments just after I’ve gotten into bed, I close my eyes and try to hear my father’s standard telephone greeting. Most nights, I can still hear the way it moved through the telephone wires, full-bodied and rich like maple syrup. And I try to remember the sound of my mom’s greeting as I burst through the front door, lugging my suitcase and computer bag. “Boy, you made great time!” she’d say. As if I would take my time as I made my way to her. These greetings are genuine sanctuaries into which I can take refuge, glorious moments during which I remember the magic of my parents’ voices.

I suspect that greetings–informal or formal–may soon be on the endangered social mores list (if there isn’t such a list, there should be). Too many people miss the opportunity to greet another because their heads are bent to their cell phones. They don’t recognize that another has entered their space. In the best cases, they may throw a head-nod in another’s direction; in the worst cases, they never look up from their devices, wholly oblivioius to the fact that they are no longer alone.

Greetings may go the way of the Dodo. I can imagine my grandkids trying to explain to their children that, once upon a time, people actually greeted each other with words, waves, and handshakes. They’d have to unearth old YouTube or TikTok videos as proof of a custom that simply died. I can imagine this, but I don’t want to. I’m holding out for a greeting revival, the sort which sweeps the world with the same kind of fervor that erupts between the 1st and 2nd quarters of Iowa Hawkeye football games.