1965
My good fortune is to have a wife, two
children, four grandchildren and the memory to know all nine birthdays. I have
lots of chances to be a gift giver.
My wife's good fortune is to have the
nature of a camp counselor. She has ideas. She plans. She negotiates. She
strategizes. She takes charge. She moves with lightning speed.
So she has the birthday gifts for our
grandchildren approved by the parents, purchased, wrapped and delivered before
the birthday message travels from my cerebral cortex to an action nerve.
It is no coincidence the kids always
love the gift.
And I've become a bit of a slug, slow
to move when the time to buy is nigh.
There was a time when it was different.
In 1965 while a freshman in college I
fell madly in love with a fresh college woman I met working a part time job. It
was not entirely mutual. I was more into her than she was into me.
So while we saw each other at work and
even dated there was more that could have been written into our story.
Then I found a perfect birthday gift
for her.
It was a folksy piece of art that was a
pretty sunflower painted in vibrant colors on a one foot wide by two foot tall
piece of wood. Except the artist put a mirror where the middle of the flower
should have been. And above the mirror were the words ‘nice thing’.
So anyone looking in the mirror got an
affirmation along with their reflection.
I gave this present to Erica along with
a card that simply said “happy birthday nice thing”.
She opened the box, read the card, looked
up into my eyes, smiled and said “Liking you more”.
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