Gifts of the Season

It’s that wonderful time of the year. Good will and good cheer!

And sometimes a bit awkward. The whole gift giving thing.

What’s the first thing we think of when we receive an unexpected present from a friend or neighbor during the holidays?

Not, “Isn’t this wonderful!” but more like,”OH NO, I didn’t get them a gift!”

We feel bad. Maybe a little thoughtless. Not sure why we are programmed in this way.

But what we really need to remember is that most of those people who are giving the gifts are acting without expectation.

Accept the gift graciously and thankfully. And then let it go.

Which leads me to another aspect of gift giving.

Thoughtfulness.

Have you ever attended a White Elephant gift exchange or a Yankee Swap party?

It’s a game where everyone brings a wrapped gift. Something that they’ve found hanging around the house or in the back of a closet. Because it’s unwanted. Might be really nice or kind of wacky but mostly unwanted. There’s a numbered system and also a “stealing” component.The results can be hysterical and entertaining. No one knows who brought what gift.

I recently attended one in my neighborhood. Chatting with the woman beside me while she secretly pointed out the gift she brought to the party. It was a lovely frame that her mother had given her.

She said, “I’m like, Mum, have you ever visited my home? That frame doesn’t match a thing! What were you thinking?”

I laughed because it’s so true.

When choosing a gift are we being mindful? Is it what they would really enjoy or is it what we like or think would be best for the recipient? It can be tricky. Our intentions are, no doubt, always good. But if we are thinking more about us than them then don’t be surprised if it’s wrapped up for next year’s White Elephant party.

This season I wish you all graciousness, thankfulness and acceptance of the many gifts you will receive. Material gifts and the ones that truly matter.

Act without expectation and don’t forget to throw in a bunch of thoughtfulness.

 

 

 

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Mother

I could go on and on about my mother. I mean, shoot, she literally made me. Doesn’t get much bigger than that!

She also helped form me.

But I wont go on and on today.

I will just share some memories I have of my mother when I had children of my own.

Seems appropriate for Mother’s Day.

When I had my first child my husband drove us home from the hospital. I always knew he was a keeper but it was solidified after the birth of that first kid. He was normally a fast driver. That day he navigated the pot holes of Providence at a snail’s pace. Was like driving with a ninety year old man. Precious cargo.

We pulled up to our home and my mother was already there. She came out the back door to greet us. And I ran into her arms and cried. I don’t know why.

I never thought I would be a victim of hormones. I was happier than I could ever be. I had a healthy, beautiful daughter and a loving husband.

But I was a victim of hormones.

My mother comforted me.

That day she cared for the baby, my husband and me. Cooked us meals. Cleaned.

And then in the evening she was preparing to go home (only a mile away) and I hugged her and cried.

She was like, “Awwww, honey, you cry when you see me and cry when I’m leaving. I don’t want to go.”

Six years later I had another beautiful child. My mom flew to Texas and was there the next day.

I was out of the hospital in no time because this child was not a C-Section like her sister.

But I was feeling worse each day.

My mom, a nurse, said that I should feel better physically each day and I wasn’t. In pain and sweating. She’s the only person in the world I would let look at me. She told me to call the doctor.

Anyway, problem eventually resolved.

But the one thing I remember, might not be a big deal to anyone else, is that when I got into bed that evening I had the cleanest, freshest sheets.

I could never forget it.

I just love her so much.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!

Thank you for everything. For your care, compassion and thoughtfulness. Thank you for being there. Always.

 

 

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