Gifts

 

I would hate to be someone trying to buy me something special. I am a person who the less I have, the happier I am. For me each second I have to spend in a store is hell. And although I often sit in the car and read when Rick goes in, I am thinking, don't buy anything, don't buy anything or if you do just the one thing you went in for that we/you need.

There are exceptions, however: books, memories and art work. Our walls are full of paintings done by artists we know and love. 

There are some gifts that have been outstanding. They create memories far beyond the gift.

For Rick's and my commitment ceremony in 2013 we received this doll-house-size piece of furniture. Look at it closely. 

There's a duplicate of the cover of my first published novel. In the drawer is my photo. So many tiny details. The artist that did it has become a good friend, not because she made this, but because her spirit is able to think up something like this. And that little desk has a place of honor on our bookshelf. I treasure it.

A dear, dear friend, a family member of choice and I do exchange presents. Both of us feel we already have enough of everything. We try and find things that will amuse and please. She outdid herself at my last birthday with a pair of socks. Look closely and there are lots of books. Reading is life's blood to both of us. But there are also words "Shush I'm Reading." But although I have unusual socks, I never expected to have a pair with my avatar and name. 

My daughter has been great on finding things I will love. One year it was a Larry Bird T-shirt. However, the years she brings me a package of raisin cinnamon bagels and a can of brown bread from Boston, are treasures. She has also been known to get me a favorite hair conditioner that I couldn't find in Switzerland. And my annual Cryptogram book is a reminder of her for the year it takes me to solve the puzzles.

 She also made a tapestry for me with each panel meaning something special. 

My husband also has a way of surprising me. A sweatshirt with a Japanese chin, a painting that I'd admired. He hung it when I wasn't looking. And sometimes it is a special cookie or a chocolate from Auer Chocolates in Geneva. One or two. It's the thought. My morning cup of tea before I get out of bed, that is a gift and I don't care how often he does it.

I love giving gifts. I looked for almost four years to find a carved statue of Guillaume Tell and I'm still looking for a real cross bow for my husband. If I find something that will please the sock giver, I grab it. 

Sometimes as I walk by a store, something in the window says "Buy me for (fill in the blank).

 

A gift is not more valuable because of the cost. It is the thought. I think of my grandfather, one of the world's least romantic men, picking one lady slipper for my grandmother every spring. That flower said I love you.

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