The most wonderful birthday present I ever received, I gave to myself, in more ways than one.
Typical family party; on the lake, kids playing, family milling about. Did I get a lucky break; having a birthday a couple of weeks after the end of the traditional school year. The presents were all around good, and I was a fairly satisfied teenager. But then came my grandmother’s present. A pinkish sweater thing.
Those who live in this region know that, by June, humidity is not your friend. You’re clothes, and often your skin, are soaked with it. So really not a big sweater season. Then there’s the color. I do not completely avoid the color pink. On the contrary, I’m quite fond of the color overall. But in those days there were shades of pink only permissible on Don Johnson and Saved By the Bell. This item belonged under the white jacket of a man wearing no socks.
After looking at the item of clothing for a few minutes, trying not to wrinkle my nose in impolite distaste, I looked down into the box, and noticed something else in the bottom. My heart swelled with relief; the receipt. Even at that young age, I’d learned to appreciate a person who realizes they may not be talented at the craft of gift giving. Apparently my grandmother had come around to this truth about herself. I still applaud her for the realization, to this day.
A few days after my birthday, I went to the store where the item had been purchased. I shopped carefully, as I always do, looking for how to get the most from the cost of the cotton candy-esque concoction. But when I saw it, all other thoughts items flew from my mind. The jacket was as 80’s a fashion piece as you can imagine. Big shoulder pads, black and white checkers, with a cool dark purple collar. I was smitten, fully and complete.
When I later showed the one item I purchase, to my sister and cousin, this was the response I got, “That’s what we told her to buy you!” Apparently they had been involved in the shopping for my birthday present, and had assured my grandmother it was ideal for me. She had chosen to go another way.
I learned, that day, just how different I am from the bulk of my family. I also learned, that those from whom I am the farthest, aren’t exactly interested in crossing that divide. My grandmother had been counseled wisely, on just who I was and what would make me happy. But she chose to follow her own ideas of aesthetic beauty; ignoring that the person, who would ultimately wear the item, was me. It was a valuable lesson, and one not easily forgotten. But in that understanding, I got a wonderful present; the understanding that I could just be me and not worry about who they saw. It was almost as great a present as that jacket.
© CleverTitania.com 2009
