The Gift

This post might seem kind of depressing but I really don't intend it to be that way at all. I am posting this because it's really on my mind right now and I just felt like putting it out there in case someone else is as pig headed and dense as I once was many years ago. If you see yourself in this, maybe you should try to look at things on a deeper level and see the bigger picture.

Years ago, toward the end of my Mothers life, we spent one of our last Christmases together. I don't remember if this was the last one but it was toward the end. My Mother was getting to a point where she didn't feel comfortable driving longer distances anymore so she did everything she needed to do in her very small town in the Adirondack mountains in upstate New York. That year she bought me a present, a shirt at a local store. I hated that shirt and I felt terrible that she spent her limited income on it. I thought I'd be slick and turn it into me being considerate. I told her that I felt bad that she spent her money on me when I didn't want or need anything. She was on a fixed income. Now I really did not like the shirt, it was also too big and I honestly did feel bad that she spent money on me when all I wanted was to see her.

Off we went to that store and we returned it. I should say I returned it while she stood there feeling pretty shitty that the one thing she managed to do wasn't enough for her ungrateful daughter. I assured her I didn't need a gift and I wasn't upset. Then as we walked out of the store I noticed that even though she was smiling, her eyes were watery and she was about to cry. We got into her car on that cold blustery day and I asked her what was wrong. She said to me that she felt bad that she wasn't able to do things for me and that she was sorry I didn't like my gift. We both cried. I was speechless and I apologized. She didn't make a fuss, she really tried to keep it together but she just couldn't. My Mother rarely showed sadness so I knew it was big for her.

To say I felt bad is an understatement. To this day I still recall every painful detail of that incident and I can't believe what a thick headed insensitive idiot I was. My lack of maturity and insight was distressing. I also remember her saying "I just wanted to be able to do something nice for you, I'm sorry". So you see, that was really what that was about. It wasn't about a stupid shirt I hated, it wasn't about money, it was about love. Why on earth I was unable to see it then is really beyond me but now, all these years later it popped into my head and haunted me all day to the point of me coming home and crying till I became sick over it. A good friend called me in the midst of my meltdown and verbally bitch slapped me into snapping out of it and ceasing my pointless mental self mutilation in all of this. What's done is done. The important part to me is the lesson I learned from that and it is one I tell my patients everyday when they ask me why they suffer with their illnesses and limitations.....you see it can really be applied to a lot of situations....

Sometimes, we need to learn how to accept, how to let someone else give. If you've always done for others maybe learning how to receive is a lesson you will need to work on. The item or act the person is performing isn't the important thing. It's letting someone else feel needed or useful or special or appreciated, letting them do something for another human being. When you let someone give you are basically giving them an intangible gift yourself. If I had realized that years ago I wouldn't be sitting here boo hooing over something that happened so long ago. The boo hooing is pointless but the lesson has been priceless for me. Since that day, there have been times when I've been in similar situations and the thought of rejecting a kind act no matter what it is never ever crosses my mind. I've had people (my elderly patients )in absolutely filthy apartments make me tea as a kind gesture and I just pray to God the hot water is enough to boil whatever germs away that I'm ingesting because I always remember how important it was for someone who rarely felt useful to others (my Mom) to feel useful once and a while.

So here I am many years later alone and wishing that I had that ugly shirt to open all over again. I'd wear it proudly and never even consider getting rid of it or thinking of it as just a shirt. Since that is not possible I'm just going to be grateful for the lesson I learned from that experience and how it affects my way of dealing with others on a daily basis. I think if my Mom was here she'd be quite happy with the ways things turned out after all :)