Thursday, December 25, 2014

Not Quite Everything

Wayne, my father-in-law, used to do all or most of his Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve. There may have been many different reasons why he did this (scheduling, procrastination, wanting to avoid the crowds, the attractive unconventional nature of it), but whatever the reason it was efficient. He would get several of the same shirt or coveralls in various sizes for his three sons and me. I don’t remember what he got his daughters and daughters-in-law (tricky plural placement), as I was way too self-centered back then. However, I will never forget one of the gifts he gave me, because I still have it.

About twenty-five years ago Wayne got all the guys (we were young men then) identical maroon/red/wine/burgundy (some such color) sweatshirts. I don’t know what the other guys did with theirs, but I still have mine and it proudly shows its age.

The scripted “Minnesota” on the left breast has faded with the rest of the fabric, but all the letters are still there. The cuffs and high, three-button collar are tattered, but the buttons have hung on through the years; the elbows have thinned and the shirt itself has lost some of its form, while the function has improved. Even though holes have appeared out of nowhere and the seams are beginning to separate, I won’t part with it. I don’t own a more comfortable article of clothing or one I am more attached to.

I won’t throw it away, and neither would my wife, Rhonda, as she remembers who gave it to me. She washes it by hand as it still bleeds a rosy color. I have often wondered what goes through her mind when she washes that shirt. Does the need to hand-wash it annoy her? Is she secretly hoping I will forget about it and she can discard it? Does she think of her father as the water turns color? Does her heart bleed a little?

Her Dad has been gone for seventeen years. I miss him and I know Rhonda does too. I wonder if any of the gifts that I give will still linger when I’m gone. I would not guess a sweatshirt – but there it is proving me wrong.

The wrong gift is quickly discarded and forgotten, maybe even bringing some disdain with it. But even the right gift may not have the staying power to survive decades of stress and hand-wringing.

Toys break, cash is spent, and we eventually forget about most everything else. There is also the problem of what to get the person who has everything? The answer is you get them nothing – well almost nothing.  You often hear older, mature (more mature than me) adults say, “Don’t buy me anything, I have everything I need.” I remember hearing my grandmother say that.

In my mind I will never be as old as my grandparents appeared to be, but as I think about my own children and grandchild I know what I want from them – nothing that money can buy. I selfishly crave their time and love, and I freely offer mine. I have appreciated all of the gifts I have received over the years, but they are no match for the memories, time and love shared.

A friend of mine wrote me and said that he needed to find a gift for his wife soon, as he doesn’t want to be shopping at Kwik Trip on Christmas Eve. Sometimes those last-minute gifts can last a lifetime, but just to be safe better throw in some love and time.



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