Gifting

In my house, the living room is separated by four tall, turned spindles, from the ceiling to the half wall that separates the living room from the hallway leading to the basement.  When I receive a greeting card (for a gift or something) from a relative, neighbor, or friend, I clip it to the cord that I’ve strung between the spindles.  That way, I can enjoy the sentiments longer than if I store them immediately in a box … or even if I stand them on a table.

There seem to be an amazing number of ways that gifts can be given.  In person.  By mail or other post-related delivery services.  Gifting can be preceded by a scavenger hunt.  Gifts hidden for searching.  All sorts of ways to give a gift.

My experience of receiving a special gift last Christmas has turned into a year-long pleasure surrounding this gift.  When I think about the tender loving care that was taken to put this gift together, it simply boggles my mind.  The gift from Daughter #3 and her family to myself, as well as Daughter #1 was in every way unexpected.  So much of our gifting these days involves selecting a specific gift for a person, purchasing the gift, and managing to get the gift to the recipient in time for some special day or event.  Birthdays.  Holidays.  Or, sometimes, simply a gift to show the love that is there.

The gift that I’m talking about took creativity, time, and willingness of four people to complete.  It is truly a cherished gift.

Daughter #1 and I received a wood box, each with our own name written on top.  Inside, we found thirteen envelopes  The envelopes lay in the bottom of the box.  The top most envelope had the words, “Open Me First!”  Inside of the envelope was a card.  Here is what was written on it:  “This is a box of memories.  One from each of us [four family members, Mom, Dad, and two daughters] per month for the whole year.  [Each family member was identified with a color – red, yellow, blue, and green.]  We love you so very much!  Merry Christmas ’20.”  On each card, was a memory that that family member had with me; and for Daughter #1, with her.

The time this must have taken by both Daughter #3 and all of her family members is something I can’t even imagine.  How do you get a fifteen- and eighteen-year-old to sit still long enough to write twenty-four short essays about their relationship with their aunt and their grandmama?  And Dad, busy with his work as professor at Lawrence University – how does he have the time to take out of his schedule to write twenty-four short essays of memories.  I wonder, of course, how Mom had time to sandwich this writing into her busy days, in addition to creating the boxes, getting the essays onto cards to put into the envelopes.  Again, mind boggling!

The memories in my box are joyful.  Memories of activities that I had forgotten and didn’t really know had the apparent effect on my family members.  As I read the memory cards at the beginning of each month, they help me to remember activities that I’ve forgotten.  Memories that I didn’t intentionally put deep into my thoughts, but memories that when I read them gave me pause to enjoy them all over again.

For about a year and a half, I lived with the family while being the home-school teacher for one of my grandchildren.  It was winter; winter is cold in Wisconsin.  I drove my son-in-law to the building where he worked on LU’s campus.  I never realized that that simple act was a positive thing to do for him, until he told me on one of the memory cards.

One of our favorite places for breakfast, when they were in town for the summer, was our favorite chocolatier’s business.  Granddaughter #1 loved that place, as we all did.  We would have our celebrations of birthdays, anniversaries, etc., there, as well.  She remembers ordering the “bagel” breakfast because she liked the yogurt.  And, with every meal, they served a piece of chocolate!

Granddaughter #2 remembers a moment in time that I would actually like to forget!  We are a creative bunch and, sometimes, that creativity can get us in trouble.  Fortunately, we had Grandpapa to call to ask what to do!  It is good to know that love is there.

My house is often filled with unusual animals.  Dogs, of course.  A Russian tortoise.  Ant lions  Snakes.  Guinea pigs.  Rabbits.  Prairie dogs.  You get the picture.  Granddaughter #1 remembers feeding the ant lions some meal worms.  Just in case you don’t know what an ant lion is – take a look on-line.  They are not very beautiful in the stage of the insect that can be collected beside the foundation of houses.  Kept in a cage, with about two inches of dirt, they make funnel-type hole in the dirt.  I think they are the most patient animal I can think of.  In their natural habitat, they sit at the bottom of the “funnel” for their prey to stumble into.  They capture the prey and dig backward into the dirt and “good-bye prey.”  Daughter #3 remembers all of our animals.

Daughter #3, the creator of all of this wonderful remembering, also remembers that years and years ago, as a senior in high school, she attended music camp at a Colorado college.  She played bassoon; she was principal in two music groups at music camp.  Then, along came pneumonia, wiping out any more participation in the music camp.  She remembers, “There was never a time I needed and wanted you more than that summer.  Thank you for taking care of me!”

As family members, we want to remember that we need each other.  What joy to know that we still have that possibility.  This gift was not an “instant” gift; rather, this wonderful gift has been a gift that keeps on giving, month after month.  And, we still have two more months to go for this year!

Be safe and well

The Cranky Crone

Thoughtful comments are appreciated.