On gifts and some sap about my parents.
So I'm done with the Christmas shopping I'm capable of this year. Brian's mom told us not to get them anything, given his lack of job, so I'm planning to make fudge and bring a bottle of nice wine on Christmas day, so I'm not arriving empty-handed. His brother, brother's girlfriend, and sister all said "no gifts for anyone over 3 feet tall," which I thought was really sweet. We've invited them all over for dinner before Christmas instead, and I'm looking forward to the chance to spend some time with them outside of his parents' place. My mom & dad just wanted a copy of Nora's baby book, and Brian and I are skipping gifts for each other this year. I'd been stashing stuff for Nora & Gray since before Brian was laid off, so the kids are done. We're not planning to exchange with our friends, and, yeah. That's it. I have to say, it's fascinating to watch Christmas and the mad gift-giving rush as a relative outsider.
At Sarah's father's funeral one of the things she said was for those of us in attendace to really appreciate the family we have, because you don't realize how lucky you are to have them. It hit hard then, and it's been hitting over and over again in small bursts ever since. This is one of those bursts.
I think the most fun thing I've done is help dad get mom's Christmas present. Every year they promise not to get anything for each other, and every year my mom sneaks something small and nice for my dad, and every year he sneaks something BIG and EXCITING for her. It's so sweet, and I've realized that watching them interact on gifts has a lot to do with my feelings about gift giving.
This year he bought a set of vintage china that she pointed out at a store over the summer. He bought it in OCTOBER, and fabricated this whole reason for him and I to go out together while mom watched the kids so we could pick it up without her knowing. We snuck it into my garage, and it's been there for almost 3 months. He even asked me to use a piece of it at Thanksgiving dinner (I chose the gravy boat) to make sure he got the right set without tipping his hand. When she saw it on the table she went nuts, saying it looked JUST LIKE this set she saw one time and loved. And my dad glowed.
He didn't spend more than $50 on it; vintage china is surprisingly inexpensive, but the amount of thought and effort and planning that he put into this gift, and every Christmas gift he gives her, it just shows so much love. Sure, he enjoys the thrill of trying to keep the gift a secret, and of having a fun way to present it to her (this year I'm going to sneak into the dining room, set up a place setting at her spot in the table, and cover it with a wrapped box with the bottom cut out), but it's more than that. The fun is just a pleasant side effect.
My dad doesn't often verbally express what he feels for people, and as I've grown up and gotten some perspective on him I've realized that it's because he loves so strongly that he can't manage to get the words out. Watching him think of these gifts, and then seeing the pure joy he gets from making my mom happy on Christmas Eve, it's like reading his soul. And it's a really beautiful one.
At Sarah's father's funeral one of the things she said was for those of us in attendace to really appreciate the family we have, because you don't realize how lucky you are to have them. It hit hard then, and it's been hitting over and over again in small bursts ever since. This is one of those bursts.
I think the most fun thing I've done is help dad get mom's Christmas present. Every year they promise not to get anything for each other, and every year my mom sneaks something small and nice for my dad, and every year he sneaks something BIG and EXCITING for her. It's so sweet, and I've realized that watching them interact on gifts has a lot to do with my feelings about gift giving.
This year he bought a set of vintage china that she pointed out at a store over the summer. He bought it in OCTOBER, and fabricated this whole reason for him and I to go out together while mom watched the kids so we could pick it up without her knowing. We snuck it into my garage, and it's been there for almost 3 months. He even asked me to use a piece of it at Thanksgiving dinner (I chose the gravy boat) to make sure he got the right set without tipping his hand. When she saw it on the table she went nuts, saying it looked JUST LIKE this set she saw one time and loved. And my dad glowed.
He didn't spend more than $50 on it; vintage china is surprisingly inexpensive, but the amount of thought and effort and planning that he put into this gift, and every Christmas gift he gives her, it just shows so much love. Sure, he enjoys the thrill of trying to keep the gift a secret, and of having a fun way to present it to her (this year I'm going to sneak into the dining room, set up a place setting at her spot in the table, and cover it with a wrapped box with the bottom cut out), but it's more than that. The fun is just a pleasant side effect.
My dad doesn't often verbally express what he feels for people, and as I've grown up and gotten some perspective on him I've realized that it's because he loves so strongly that he can't manage to get the words out. Watching him think of these gifts, and then seeing the pure joy he gets from making my mom happy on Christmas Eve, it's like reading his soul. And it's a really beautiful one.