Gifts and the Gift of Giving

Herb Garden from "The Master Gardner"

Some people have the gift of gifts, or the ability to choose just the right thing for someone else.  I think it's genetic.  My adult children are thoughtful and through the years, I have received many special gifts from them.  My oldest son recently just amazed me with a mother's day gift -- a standing garden!  The note that arrived with the box of parts said, "No excuse for not having fresh herbs, Mom."  This is a 3 by 4 foot cedar herb garden which is off the ground which makes it easier to water and weed, and as the description says, easier on the back and the knees.  Also those cute little rabbits cannot reach the plants, but deer can.  We shall see.  I gave up on having roses because the deer would surgically clip the rose buds just before the roses bloomed.

I enjoy choosing just the right gift for others as well.  And I have more pleasure in giving the gift than receiving one.  But these days, the art of receiving gifts is gone.  No more thank you notes, not even an email.  The worst thing is having to ask the person if they received the gift.  Not good.  

I know, I know, how old fashioned; imagine actually writing a note, but even an email is fine with me these days.

Years ago, my eye doctor, who fitted me with contacts, actually wrote thank you notes for referrals.  He has since retired, but I still remember those hand-written notes.

Gifts can be for an event, such as one my husband and I received from my other son and daughter-in-law, tickets to a World War II ball.  We had so much fun.  There were hundreds of people at the ball, many dressed in costume.  The music was great, swing dancing, Frank Sinatra and the Andrew Sisters (impersonators of course), were there.

Looking back, I think the gift thing comes from your family.  My parents made my sister and me feel special by giving us gifts for our birthdays that did not cost very much, sometimes they were hand made, but always given with much love and thought.

One thing my dad would do is to send small gifts with little notes, especially to my son when he was little.  One year, after Christmas, I received a package from him in the mail. It took me a long time to open it, you see he had died two weeks before.  It was the last thing he did before he went into the hospital.

How do you feel about the "gift thing."?