This time last year I had all of the Christmas shopping done already. Not only done, but wrapped...signed (by Santa of course:)...and hidden away. Not this year. I wouldn't consider myself a scrooge in any way but this whole "gift" thing this year has been a tad more stressful then I thought it would be. What is wrong with me? Could it be that I'm not as obsessive compulsive as I once was? I sure hope not. I've always taken pride in my ability to be prepared...weeks and weeks in advance. Maybe I'm just learning, (now that I'm all grown up) that there is more to Christmas then just gifts. Maybe though, I've yet to find that perfect thing for those that I love. I feel a little lost as I search for that "Gift" that will make my kids' year.
I never go Christmas shopping without thinking about my favorite Christmas 23 years ago. My siblings remember this year well. My mom was ill. Together her and my Dad had decided that they would not purchase a single thing for us but instead, they each would make us something. My mom made us all matching pajamas. My Dad set to work building something. ...something big. For weeks and weeks our basement was "off limits", while my Dad labored on our gifts. We could hardly wait to see what it was. On Christmas morning we woke up and went downstairs to find the most beautiful playset I had ever seen. I still have not found a playset that would match this one. It took up an entire room. This playset was big, it had everything, real dials, faucets, a dishwasher, food...the works! My sisters and I played in that room for years, (with the odd invation from my brother and some of his He-Man.)
I recall very little about that time in my life...but I do remember the hours spent with my sisters in that little room. Perhaps that is the gift my Dad wanted to give most of all. As he knew we would be losing our mother, perhaps what he wanted to give us, more than anything else, was the ability to just...play. To be kids. Even now this playset occupies a room at my sisters house and all our girls love it and use it as much as we did. Now that was a gift.
So as I contemplate what to give my own kids now, and when I get tempted to just buy "anything" off the shelf or think it doesn't matter, because Christmas isn't about presents anyways; I'm reminded of that year, and I'm inclined to think that maybe Christmas can be a little bit about "presents", IF we find the right one.
So my search continues. Luckily, if I fail to find something great for my precious three, I can always take comfort that they do know about the greatest gift of all. Yes, the real meaning of Christmas. Thank goodness for that.
2 comments:
Tanis, have no fear, you are not alone...I feel that way this Christmas and I, like you, am wondering if I've lost it! I think that it's a good thing in a way, I've had some time to think about it and re-evaluate the "real meaning"...thank you for your post! I loved reading it! I love the picture and I can't believe how wonderful that playset is...your Dad had amazing talent!
Your Dad seemed to understand a meaning of the word 'gift' that I don't think I've achieved yet. Truly, a beautiful memory and gift.
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