"Inanimate objects are classified scientifically into three major categories: Those that don't work, those that break down, and those that are lost." -Russell Baker
Today, I am re-hashing a theme from a past post. Last Christmas, I complained that this season's flurry of gift-giving drives us to near insanity and perpetuates a pattern of futility. I have very little idea what my friends and family need or truly want, despite my love for them and my sincere desire to contribute to their happiness. We all put pressure on ourselves to find the perfect gift, and it is hard to reconcile the guilt when we end up settling for some generic equivalent. Suddenly, the symbol of our love and passion for giving is reduced to a candle, a pair of slippers, or a bottle of booze. And when we unwrap our own gifts, we can't help feeling a bit let down. We hope to give and to get the things we prize the most. But, I think we all share an understanding that 'the perfect gift' is an enigma. Most of the things we truly want or need, we get for ourselves. The real gifts are small simple things that present themselves every day. The real gifts are the little things that we share with each other all year long. A phone call, a visit, laughter, tears, a meal, an inside joke, hugs, and kisses. These are the ingredients of our most cherished relationships, the ONLY gifts that matter. That's a flurry of kindness and pattern of love that must be perpetuated. I am grateful and blessed by the gift that is you, and you are welcome anytime. I'll be wearing my slippers, we'll light a candle and share a bottle of booze. I can't think of any thing that would make me happier. Merry Christmas!
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