I haven’t written much about Walker lately, mostly because our life together has settled into a mostly predictable routine. We see each other more often for breakfast lately, because his tastes are maturing and the two sausage biscuits he has made himself for breakfast for years no longer appeal to him. That’s a good thing…we’re both eating more healthy choices now. After work, he spends a little time with us before dinner, and religiously watches Wheel of Fortune while it’s cooking, solving way more puzzles than his dad or I do. But then, he disappears upstairs until the next morning. Today was a bit different.
A couple of months ago I got all excited about Polaroid offering a new portable printer that turned digital photos into old timey Polaroid prints, something Walker still grieves for after their discontinuing production of his favorite, and very expensive film. I showed Walker a small article about the device from the Sunday paper months ago and he excitedly shared the news with his sisters and brothers in law, and anyone else who was around. Last week, as his birthday approached, I began letting my fingers do the walking and shopping. Well, Amazon had what looked like the same device, but there were precious few reviews, and all of them made me doubt my choice. So back to square one.
Walker usually has a list made by the 4th of July with explicit expectations from each family member as to what they are supposed to find for him. Sometimes the searches are time consuming and the found items too expensive, so he ends up getting gift cards, which he accepts with gratitude, if not a whole lot of enthusiasm.
For some reason, the pattern was altered this year, and this morning I had to remind him that we really needed a list. As he walked off from me, he muttered something I didn’t understand, and I began my usual somewhat preachy plea for a repeat, this time facing me, so I could understand him. Walker absolutely hates it when anyone does that, but in spite of years of really good speech therapy, his speech is only completely intelligible when he focuses and projects carefully…which is still only about half the time.
I went back to the topic of gifts while he waited as I cooked his requested scrambled egg, this time within hearing distance of my aging ears and facing me. “How about the gift of understanding,” he replied with a sassy look on his face and his hand on his hip. Going into mom mode, I reminded him that understanding was a gift for him to give the rest of us…that we can only understand if he helps us out. An impasse with Walker is usually handled with a shrug on both our parts, but this time he made me start thinking about my responsibility to understand others.
I try, I really do try, to understand people who irritate me, and the older I get and the grumpier I and the world becomes, it seems that there are more and more of them. I look for an innocent reason the sales clerk is on her cell phone while the line builds behind me and I stand there tapping my credit card, but often the evidence is that he or she is simply chatting and trying, unsuccessfully, to do their job while maintaining social contacts. I try to understand why the used paperback I ordered on Amazon is packaged in such a way that multiple implements are required to get into it. I know, the people are afraid you’ll make a negative comment if it’s not packaged sufficiently to prevent damage. I try to understand when I am required to navigate an endless phone tree to reach a person who called me to begin with, and whose business probably isn’t of concern to me anyway. I try, I really do try.
But today, I’m wishing I could require of others the same things I require of Walker, that he make more effort and accept some responsibility for making our interaction a positive one. If he can do it, I think others can too. In the meantime, I hope I’ll be able to give the gift of understanding to Walker and others.
Blessings,
Janie
Showing posts with label Gifts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gifts. Show all posts
Monday, August 22, 2011
Thursday, December 10, 2009
The Greatest Gifts
It’s the time of year when the family is asking what I want for Christmas, and I’ve cooperated this year by having a few simple wants on my list. But when I really, really think of what I want, aside from World Peace, I’m acutely aware that I have basically everything I could possibly need and most of what I want.
The gifts I treasure most, though, are not things, but the people in my life who make a difference.
Parents who gave me a good education and lots of love, even when I didn’t deserve it.
A husband who notices when the gas tank is low and fills it up, especially if it’s raining or freezing, and warms my backside on a cold night.
Daughters who want to know how to cook some of my favorite recipes, even if they’re full of fat and sugar.
Daughters who know that going to a live performance of “Wicked” or having food prepared for me is infinitely more exciting than more stuff.
A son who never forgets to take out the trash on garbage night, helps clear the table when we have guests, and gives me a hug and a nuzzle when he gets home from work.
A brother who shares my interest in books and always has time for me.
A sister who lavishes me with love and special treats.
Nieces and nephews who stay in touch and even drop in for a visit sometimes, always being patient with my stories of the old days.
Son’s in Law who carry on conversations with me as if I have some sense and make me laugh until I hurt, and who love my daughters as much as I do.
In Laws who are thoughtful and fun to be around.
Lots of “cuddin’s” who are also friends.
A friend who calls regularly to say, “What’s goin’ on?” and listens and cares when I tell her.
Friends who include me in things, even if it’s been a long time since I’ve reciprocated their invitations.
Friends who trust me with their secrets, even though I’m notorious for flubbing up and letting them out of the bag.
A friend who remembers selling lemonade, smooshing buttercups on noses, catching fireflies and putting on plays in the front yard.
An aunt who has known me since birth, and remembers it.
A guy at Amazon.com who never makes a mistake and always delivers on time.
A paperboy who rarely misses the driveway.
A guy friend who marvels at how I keep looking young…even if I don’t!
Women who are willing to read books and share their thoughts on them with me and affirm my opinions when they are right and challenge them when they’re wrong…all in the nicest possible way.
Neighbors who share their “helper” list with me.
Old friends who reconnected on Facebook and comment or send me cybertreats or funny forwards occasionally.
Medical professionals far and near, especially a wonderful orthopedist and chiropractor who gave me the gift of mobility…whether I wanted it or not.
Someone who cuts my hair consistently and makes me feel more attractive after.
People, apparently from some far away places, who read my posts
A dog who loves me and kind of minds me…especially if treats are involved.
Grandsons who like to sing and play games or discuss life in general with me and sometimes ask if they can live with me.
A granddaughter who loves to play with my old Ginny and Madame Alexander dolls as much as I did at her age and still snuggles up when we watch a movie or read.
A tiny baby boy, hovering on a cloud somewhere, waiting for just the right time to enter my world and confirm once more that life is really, really good.
Blessings,
Janie
The gifts I treasure most, though, are not things, but the people in my life who make a difference.
Parents who gave me a good education and lots of love, even when I didn’t deserve it.
A husband who notices when the gas tank is low and fills it up, especially if it’s raining or freezing, and warms my backside on a cold night.
Daughters who want to know how to cook some of my favorite recipes, even if they’re full of fat and sugar.
Daughters who know that going to a live performance of “Wicked” or having food prepared for me is infinitely more exciting than more stuff.
A son who never forgets to take out the trash on garbage night, helps clear the table when we have guests, and gives me a hug and a nuzzle when he gets home from work.
A brother who shares my interest in books and always has time for me.
A sister who lavishes me with love and special treats.
Nieces and nephews who stay in touch and even drop in for a visit sometimes, always being patient with my stories of the old days.
Son’s in Law who carry on conversations with me as if I have some sense and make me laugh until I hurt, and who love my daughters as much as I do.
In Laws who are thoughtful and fun to be around.
Lots of “cuddin’s” who are also friends.
A friend who calls regularly to say, “What’s goin’ on?” and listens and cares when I tell her.
Friends who include me in things, even if it’s been a long time since I’ve reciprocated their invitations.
Friends who trust me with their secrets, even though I’m notorious for flubbing up and letting them out of the bag.
A friend who remembers selling lemonade, smooshing buttercups on noses, catching fireflies and putting on plays in the front yard.
An aunt who has known me since birth, and remembers it.
A guy at Amazon.com who never makes a mistake and always delivers on time.
A paperboy who rarely misses the driveway.
A guy friend who marvels at how I keep looking young…even if I don’t!
Women who are willing to read books and share their thoughts on them with me and affirm my opinions when they are right and challenge them when they’re wrong…all in the nicest possible way.
Neighbors who share their “helper” list with me.
Old friends who reconnected on Facebook and comment or send me cybertreats or funny forwards occasionally.
Medical professionals far and near, especially a wonderful orthopedist and chiropractor who gave me the gift of mobility…whether I wanted it or not.
Someone who cuts my hair consistently and makes me feel more attractive after.
People, apparently from some far away places, who read my posts
A dog who loves me and kind of minds me…especially if treats are involved.
Grandsons who like to sing and play games or discuss life in general with me and sometimes ask if they can live with me.
A granddaughter who loves to play with my old Ginny and Madame Alexander dolls as much as I did at her age and still snuggles up when we watch a movie or read.
A tiny baby boy, hovering on a cloud somewhere, waiting for just the right time to enter my world and confirm once more that life is really, really good.
Blessings,
Janie
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Aw Mom!
“No sprinkles?”
I got up early and slipped into my clothes and ran around the corner to the best donut shop in Memphis. I got three chocolate and three glazed, because last time I didn’t get enough glazed and that’s what everybody wanted. I stacked them up and put a candle on them and called Walker down for an early breakfast. The Tivo guy was due any minute and we needed to get in his room. I had forgotten that vanilla with sprinkles was his new passion.
Eventual lecture on the only response to a gift being “Thank You!” ...yet once again. A grumbling apology. Grumpy settling into the donuts, and a little conversation about the placement of the Tivo and an offer for onsite training from mom, the Tivo master.
“Where’s the Ghostbuster Trap?” Another failure by Mom.
I remembered the Tivo request Walker made a few months ago because I thought it meant a real change in his habits. He has a lovely “den” intended for his use upstairs, but chooses to hole up in his rather small room, sit on his bed, and spend all his waking hours watching TV or sorting his Polaroids. (Yes they’re still around, and he never leaves home without them either. They accompanied us on our recent trip to California.) The idea that he and a friend would sit in the comfortably appointed den, have some privacy, but not too much, watching a movie sometimes, sounded good to me. Big Walker dealt with the ordering. The additional cost to our satellite bill is minimal. Everybody wins.
But I forgot about the Ghostbuster Trap. It’s available on E-Bay, for only $79, new in box with all the required stickers. If it’s what he wants, I’ll order it for him and let him pay me back with part of the generous birthday money he received from friends and family. Is it a good idea? Probably not. But, heck, it’s his birthday.
The Michael Jackson CD and Tee were much more to his liking…probably because Sarah and Ned are way cooler than Mom. Oh well.
I hope Walker learns to be more gracious this year. I hope he might outgrow the adolescent stage we seem to be stuck in. I hope I learn to live with it if not.
Blessings,
Janie
I got up early and slipped into my clothes and ran around the corner to the best donut shop in Memphis. I got three chocolate and three glazed, because last time I didn’t get enough glazed and that’s what everybody wanted. I stacked them up and put a candle on them and called Walker down for an early breakfast. The Tivo guy was due any minute and we needed to get in his room. I had forgotten that vanilla with sprinkles was his new passion.
Eventual lecture on the only response to a gift being “Thank You!” ...yet once again. A grumbling apology. Grumpy settling into the donuts, and a little conversation about the placement of the Tivo and an offer for onsite training from mom, the Tivo master.
“Where’s the Ghostbuster Trap?” Another failure by Mom.
I remembered the Tivo request Walker made a few months ago because I thought it meant a real change in his habits. He has a lovely “den” intended for his use upstairs, but chooses to hole up in his rather small room, sit on his bed, and spend all his waking hours watching TV or sorting his Polaroids. (Yes they’re still around, and he never leaves home without them either. They accompanied us on our recent trip to California.) The idea that he and a friend would sit in the comfortably appointed den, have some privacy, but not too much, watching a movie sometimes, sounded good to me. Big Walker dealt with the ordering. The additional cost to our satellite bill is minimal. Everybody wins.
But I forgot about the Ghostbuster Trap. It’s available on E-Bay, for only $79, new in box with all the required stickers. If it’s what he wants, I’ll order it for him and let him pay me back with part of the generous birthday money he received from friends and family. Is it a good idea? Probably not. But, heck, it’s his birthday.
The Michael Jackson CD and Tee were much more to his liking…probably because Sarah and Ned are way cooler than Mom. Oh well.
I hope Walker learns to be more gracious this year. I hope he might outgrow the adolescent stage we seem to be stuck in. I hope I learn to live with it if not.
Blessings,
Janie
Friday, December 26, 2008
The Day After Gift
Christmas, like no other holiday sets up up for so much joy, or for so much room to be disappointed. There are almost always high points and low points, hopefully more of the former than the latter. This one was no exception.
Walker has generally been the easiest of my children to shop for. His list was ever expanding and negotiable, and with few exceptions, I could buy a huge pile of plastic stuff half price on Christmas Eve and he always seemed happy with whatever Santa brought. Except this year.
Walker's journey down memory lane into his childhood has had me searching on Ebay for toys that I probably threw away or sold for fifty cents in a garage sale many years ago. The only affordable “collectible” I could find in what seemed like mint condition for a toy from 1984 was a Ghostbusters Ghost Zapper. It is essentially like a flashlight with a disc that projects pictures of six ghosts on the wall of a darkened room.
When the Ghost Zapper arrived, I was pleasantly surprised at the good condition of the original box, essential to the quadruple value I had paid for the thing. The ad on Ebay had made no mention of any parts missing. You Ebay buyers and sellers out there probably know that the description of the item is a serious thing. You have to read every word, check the ratings of the seller, etc. Sellers generally describe every possible defect to avoid returns or the ever dreaded negative rating.
Walker opened his package on Christmas Eve, and was initially delighted. But a minute later, he said, “Didn’t it come with stickers?” As per the first item in the instructions, he was looking for the Ghostbusters logo decals to apply them. We looked through all the packaging materials, and indeed there were no stickers. “It’ll be okay,” he assured me. He hates to see his mama upset about anything as much as any kid I’ve ever seen. We moved on to other gifts, but the Ghostblaster was his main gift, and was ever so slightly tainted.
I wrote to the seller, who offered a small refund, which I refused and let him have a lesson on how to write a description. He offered a mild apology, but there was no way to make it right, or so I thought.
Walker has generally been the easiest of my children to shop for. His list was ever expanding and negotiable, and with few exceptions, I could buy a huge pile of plastic stuff half price on Christmas Eve and he always seemed happy with whatever Santa brought. Except this year.
Walker's journey down memory lane into his childhood has had me searching on Ebay for toys that I probably threw away or sold for fifty cents in a garage sale many years ago. The only affordable “collectible” I could find in what seemed like mint condition for a toy from 1984 was a Ghostbusters Ghost Zapper. It is essentially like a flashlight with a disc that projects pictures of six ghosts on the wall of a darkened room.
When the Ghost Zapper arrived, I was pleasantly surprised at the good condition of the original box, essential to the quadruple value I had paid for the thing. The ad on Ebay had made no mention of any parts missing. You Ebay buyers and sellers out there probably know that the description of the item is a serious thing. You have to read every word, check the ratings of the seller, etc. Sellers generally describe every possible defect to avoid returns or the ever dreaded negative rating.
Walker opened his package on Christmas Eve, and was initially delighted. But a minute later, he said, “Didn’t it come with stickers?” As per the first item in the instructions, he was looking for the Ghostbusters logo decals to apply them. We looked through all the packaging materials, and indeed there were no stickers. “It’ll be okay,” he assured me. He hates to see his mama upset about anything as much as any kid I’ve ever seen. We moved on to other gifts, but the Ghostblaster was his main gift, and was ever so slightly tainted.
I wrote to the seller, who offered a small refund, which I refused and let him have a lesson on how to write a description. He offered a mild apology, but there was no way to make it right, or so I thought.
This morning, Walker proudly showed his new toy to his speech therapist, carefully enunciating “Ghostbusters” with his recently acquired “r” sound, and as I darkened the room, he demonstrated for us how it worked.
That was when I noticed that the toy now had stickers on the side and commented. A closer look revealed that they were scotch taped on. “Where did you get those,” I questioned, surprised and kind of pleased. At least I was until he told me had cut the box up to get the symbols. I guess it is okay. He’s happy, which was the whole point of the gift, and I’m not likely to auction his toy off anytime soon, but damn I wish I’d bought one without the box, but with the stickers for half the price.
I’m thankful for my inventive little guy who found a way to make his gift all that he dreamed it would be. I hope I always remember that happiness is what you make it.
Blessings,
Janie
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
A Real Gift
Walker III usually puts my favorite Amy Grant Christmas CD in the car player right after Thanksgiving, but he hadn’t done it this year.
When I looked for it in the drawer with my limited collection of favorite CDs, it wasn’t there. So, I got out a John Denver instead. (He’s one of my favorites too, and I had the honor of singing in a Junior High School Choral production with him in 1958 or ‘59. He got a solo. I did not.)
When Walker came down ready for work, I asked him to load the John Denver, and whether he had seen the Amy Grant. He admitted that he had taken it to his room, but offered to go get it. We were running tight on time, so I told him it was fine, not to worry, and we rode along belting out Christmas songs with John. The next day when I cranked up my car, Amy was back in business, and I’ll probably play her until Christmas Day, mainly because I can sing along with her better than John.
I offered to let Walker have Amy back, but he told me that he saw a new collection of her greatest hits at Target, and plans to buy it if it’s not too expensive when he and Theresa go out on Friday. He is finally free to spend his money on himself again now that his Christmas gifts are bought and wrapped. (Okay, I confess…I let him shop in my gift closet for a few too.)
If the CD is too expensive, I’ll probably buy it for him anyway, in appreciation for him remembering to return mine without having to be reminded. That’s one of my favorite things about him right now, not having to be reminded, and it’s the real gift he gives me most every day. He even reminds me when necessary, which seems to become an ever more important gift every day.
Blessings,
Janie
When I looked for it in the drawer with my limited collection of favorite CDs, it wasn’t there. So, I got out a John Denver instead. (He’s one of my favorites too, and I had the honor of singing in a Junior High School Choral production with him in 1958 or ‘59. He got a solo. I did not.)
When Walker came down ready for work, I asked him to load the John Denver, and whether he had seen the Amy Grant. He admitted that he had taken it to his room, but offered to go get it. We were running tight on time, so I told him it was fine, not to worry, and we rode along belting out Christmas songs with John. The next day when I cranked up my car, Amy was back in business, and I’ll probably play her until Christmas Day, mainly because I can sing along with her better than John.
I offered to let Walker have Amy back, but he told me that he saw a new collection of her greatest hits at Target, and plans to buy it if it’s not too expensive when he and Theresa go out on Friday. He is finally free to spend his money on himself again now that his Christmas gifts are bought and wrapped. (Okay, I confess…I let him shop in my gift closet for a few too.)
If the CD is too expensive, I’ll probably buy it for him anyway, in appreciation for him remembering to return mine without having to be reminded. That’s one of my favorite things about him right now, not having to be reminded, and it’s the real gift he gives me most every day. He even reminds me when necessary, which seems to become an ever more important gift every day.
Blessings,
Janie
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Gifts and Presents
This year several days before my birthday I received a totally unexpected package from one of my nieces. I sent her a short e-mail letting her know that her present had arrived and that I would save it till my birthday to open. She replied with a comment that it wasn't a present, but a gift, causing me to seek more information on the difference. When I had no luck with my faithful pal Google, I wrote Rebecca again, this time asking for an explanation. I can't seem to find it right now, but it defined the difference very clearly.
A present is when someone gives you something you have asked for or put on a list. Perhaps the person is on your list from some long time connection or custom and you feel that you must come up with some sort of rememberance, whether it's the exact right thing or not. You buy it, then you "present" it.
On the other hand, a gift is usually something totally unexpected that the giver knows will please and delight you. There are no strings attached, and there is no expectation of anything in return--not even a thank you. You just give it.
Either a gift or a present is an act of love, but gifts are truly special. I think I'm going to give a lot of presents this year, but I want to also give a few gifts. I hope you do too.
Blessings,
Janie
A present is when someone gives you something you have asked for or put on a list. Perhaps the person is on your list from some long time connection or custom and you feel that you must come up with some sort of rememberance, whether it's the exact right thing or not. You buy it, then you "present" it.
On the other hand, a gift is usually something totally unexpected that the giver knows will please and delight you. There are no strings attached, and there is no expectation of anything in return--not even a thank you. You just give it.
Either a gift or a present is an act of love, but gifts are truly special. I think I'm going to give a lot of presents this year, but I want to also give a few gifts. I hope you do too.
Blessings,
Janie
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
The Greatest Gift rerun
My husband, referred to as Walker for this post since Little Walker is at camp, gave me the greatest gift today. For the whole day, we did exactly what I wanted to do. No we didn't go antiquing or shopping for diamonds. We worked in the yard. This gift is even more precious because I know that he'd rather be shot than do yard work. We've been pecking away at some overdue tasks this year because we both had major surgeries last year.
I believe it was April a year ago on our anniversary that I told him that the only thing in the world I wanted was rocks. Not the glitzy kind that he had given me for Christmas, although I feel really cute when I wear my sparkly earrings, but real rocks for my garden. I repeated the request again for my birthday last October and at Christmas this year. For one reason or another, mostly my not feeling like dealing with something so overwhelming most of the time, I didn't get my rocks until this summer.
One nice day in early June we hauled me into the pickup truck and went to the rock place. I shopped around for about two minutes and picked out a nice pallet of medium sized rocks that had lots of mossy character. As the guy loaded the big, and I mean really big, bundle onto the truck, I felt the truck sink. Oh my! Those rocks were not only going to have to go down I 40 to get home, they would have to be unloaded before the truck was usable and although Walker owns a tractor with a lift, it was at the farm, not at home. Those rocks were going to have to come off one by one.
I got on the phone when we got home, and found a couple of workmen we have used on occasion to help us out, and by the next day they, and Walker had unloaded the rocks. In the process Walker had made a pretty little path up to the small "memorial garden" where my 60th birthday bench that the girls gave me gives me a quiet place to catch my breath. My sweet dog Lilly is buried right next to my bench. Her successor, Charlie, sits beside me, happy to have me scratch under his neck, just like Lilly.
Today, we got another area of the yard all tidied up and finished, at least for a while. Walker and I both trimmed hedges and pulled weeds for most of the day. I stayed in my bathing suit all day, because I simply could not have taken the heat without a drenching every couple of hours.
I hope that one day soon I'll return the favor and do just what Walker wants to do for a whole day. For tonight, I'll go to see Indiana Jones with him. His choice, not mine this time.
Blessings,
Janie
I believe it was April a year ago on our anniversary that I told him that the only thing in the world I wanted was rocks. Not the glitzy kind that he had given me for Christmas, although I feel really cute when I wear my sparkly earrings, but real rocks for my garden. I repeated the request again for my birthday last October and at Christmas this year. For one reason or another, mostly my not feeling like dealing with something so overwhelming most of the time, I didn't get my rocks until this summer.
One nice day in early June we hauled me into the pickup truck and went to the rock place. I shopped around for about two minutes and picked out a nice pallet of medium sized rocks that had lots of mossy character. As the guy loaded the big, and I mean really big, bundle onto the truck, I felt the truck sink. Oh my! Those rocks were not only going to have to go down I 40 to get home, they would have to be unloaded before the truck was usable and although Walker owns a tractor with a lift, it was at the farm, not at home. Those rocks were going to have to come off one by one.
I got on the phone when we got home, and found a couple of workmen we have used on occasion to help us out, and by the next day they, and Walker had unloaded the rocks. In the process Walker had made a pretty little path up to the small "memorial garden" where my 60th birthday bench that the girls gave me gives me a quiet place to catch my breath. My sweet dog Lilly is buried right next to my bench. Her successor, Charlie, sits beside me, happy to have me scratch under his neck, just like Lilly.
Today, we got another area of the yard all tidied up and finished, at least for a while. Walker and I both trimmed hedges and pulled weeds for most of the day. I stayed in my bathing suit all day, because I simply could not have taken the heat without a drenching every couple of hours.
I hope that one day soon I'll return the favor and do just what Walker wants to do for a whole day. For tonight, I'll go to see Indiana Jones with him. His choice, not mine this time.
Blessings,
Janie
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