Today, I repeat a blog from five years ago. It is about one of my most memorable holidays. Thanks to Stephanie who suggested it.
A
few years ago, during the financial crisis, most in our family were unable to
spend much for gifts. We agreed to give the kids smaller presents, but the
adults were in a quandary.
Larry
grew up with a large extended family. All the kids got something small, but
lots of gifts. Auntie Wanda, who worked in a bank, gave each child a crisp, new
two-dollar bill. Uncle Francis brought them each a shiny silver dollar. (Kim
still has some of hers.) Auntie Margie loved finding loud and crazy socks.
She’d shop all year for them. (And Kim insisted on wearing them—with
everything.)
Since
Larry’s dad was one of six, and most were married with kids, we often had forty
or more on Christmas Eve. Dad was the youngest and was sixteen years younger
than his oldest sister. We loved having kids and adults of all ages, and we
welcomed a new family member every few years.
The
adults drew names for gifts with a $20 limit. This meant each couple only had
to buy two adult gifts. Names were drawn on Thanksgiving, but we weren’t
particularly strict about sticking with the names as drawn. Much horse trading
occurred between that date and Christmas Eve.
Everyone
knew Cousin Gerry loved getting Larry’s brother, Casey. Both were pranksters,
and Gerry loved giving Casey off-the-wall gifts.
One
year, she gave him a large box. When he opened it, the only thing inside was a
clue to the next gift. She routed him all over the house until he finally
located the small box in the center of her cookie plate. It held a $20 bill.
Another year, he received a coffee can filled with change embedded in the most
awful mixture of white glue, peanut butter, chocolate syrup… Well, you can
imagine. He had to run the whole thing under very hot water before he was able
to extract his $20 in change.
I
always loved getting Auntie Margie. She had very definite tastes, and most of
the rest of them found her challenging. What a coup when I was able to please
her, and I did so often.
For
many years, we hosted the entire family, but as the older generation died out,
and the ‘kids’ grew up and moved away, the group grew smaller until we were
left with only our immediate families.
As
Christmas of 2009 approached, some of us were faced with limited resources. My
sister-in-love, Lucy, had just started a new job. Casey’s company had folded,
as had mine. Kim had moved to Texas for work and was no longer working two
jobs. Our niece, Carrie, and her husband were leaving right after the first of
the year to move to Utah. In short, times were financially challenging, and
money was tight.
A
coworker was faced with the same situation in her family. She had just gone
back to work after nine months of unemployment. (I had gotten her a contract
job at the same place I was working.)
Her
family decided on a virtual Christmas. The rules were simple:
· Decide what you would give
each family member if money were no object and without any restrictions.
· Write a note to each
person, along with pictures or other enhancements (web pages, etc.) to let them
know what you’d give them and why.
· Put your virtual gift in an
envelope, and put it on the tree on Christmas Eve.
Everyone
took the challenge seriously. And the gifts we received that year far surpassed
any material gifts we might have gotten.
I
have kept my virtual gifts locked carefully away along with the birth
certificates, marriage certificate, and all the other valuable papers. They are
that precious.
Kim
‘gave’ Larry a trip to outer space, complete with photos and a web page. I
‘got’ a house in Hawaii.
My
brother, who is a classic car fanatic, ‘gave’ Larry a woody and me a ’57 Thunderbird—my
favorite car of all time.
Carrie
and Loren had just bought a new house in Utah, so they brought the map of their
neighborhood. Their ‘gift’ was a house of our choice so we could be near them.
Larry’s
gift was a trip to Hawaii for the whole family. His gift to me was to retire
and travel to all the places on my bucket list: Machu Picchu, England, Scotland
(again), New Zealand (again, Italy (again), and Hawaii (always). Oh, and he’d
go along.
My
gifts were all intangibles. To Kim, I ‘gave’ happiness. To my brother,
confidence, and so forth. Larry’s gift reads as follows:
To
Larry I would give
JOY
In
God and your faith
In your work and your play
In your family and home
In love and
marriage
You
are the greatest blessing in my life.
If I could do it all over again,
I
would. You taught me how to laugh
And play and love (the best parts).
I
love you.
We
haven’t done it again, but someday, perhaps, we will. I’d recommend it to
anyone, whether or not finances are an issue.
My
virtual gift for you? A joyous and blessed holiday season and a prosperous New
Year. May all your fondest dreams come true.
