The tangible items I would choose are: a diamond necklace my grandfather gave me upon graduation from high school, my guitar, and my diploma from college. For many years the necklace my grandfather gave me was simply a beautiful piece of jewelry. I wore it everyday and often forgot it was there hanging visible to everyone. It became a part of me.
The chain withstood the rigors of constant washing, chlorine, nervous twisting during meetings and interviews, toddlers hands yanking on it, and my curly hair getting caught up in the links. Then, nearly 10 years ago I went to the hospital to visit my grandfather and leaned over his bedside to share a moment with him. My eyes were locked with his as I moved closer to give him what I knew would be a final goodbye. He could not speak at that point because of tubes that assisted his breathing draped out of his mouth. As I went to kiss him, the necklace swung near his face and he reached up to grab it. Without saying a word, so much transpired between us. I felt his sadness on leaving, his wishes for my future, his love for the granddaughter who was so precious to him in that moment as I smiled, teared, and held his hand.
The mellow-sounding, Sigma guitar crafted with blonde and dark woods by the Martin company, was a surprise from Rod when we were first together enjoying the giddiness that ensues with a new relationship. He researched, spent time shopping with my brother who is a seasoned player, then wrapped a pick in a simple package for me to unwrap Christmas morning. I quickly took up lessons. Much like art is a hobby for some people, so is music to me. It makes my soul sing to be able to create meaningful sound that can bring our busy family together for brief moments.
My diploma sits dusty in a drawer somewhere in the caverns of my house. However, it means no less to me because I choose not to display it for all to see. While I earned it through years of hard work, I see it as gift my parents gave me that they knew would keep on giving. It was a priority to them to send my brothers and I to a university and they did whatever they could to provide us a debt-free experience. I am especially grateful now as my own children embark on their college years. The time I spent thinking, researching, learning, and discussing with other academics the intricacies of the material we were studying gave me the urge to seek knowledge. I gained an understanding of myself and how I process information. I also earned an appreciation for tenacity, and the satisfying reward of accomplishing personal success.Non-material gifts require more reflection, especially when considering how they have helped "shape your life". Mine include first: compassion. This gift, if it could be wrapped would be contained in a massive box because its benefits often inspire an action which touches others lives. Compassion tied beautifully with an empathy bow. The gift makes me tear up when I hear about someone's last moments with a family member, then hold them as they cry; or grants me patience to give up a day of duties for my family to work at the shelter; or inspires me to drop a card in the mail to a friend who I know is experiencing difficulty in their lives.
The ability to take risks. I was often the one among my peers that my high school and college friends called upon to do something first. Whether it was jumping into a freezing cold pool or drinking a shot of tequila. This led to many unusual predicaments and a lot of laughter. Later in life when Rod and I committed to leaving on our sailboat with the kids for a year, it was a great comfort knowing that things would work out in the end as they always had when I had taken leaps before. This gift is waning as I get older and it irritates me. I feel unsettled and I understand this to be that it is time to shake things up and take another risk. But I hesitate because those dependent on my assurance are not comfortable with the idea of jumping into something unfamiliar.
The ability to forgive. Forgiving is freeing. It allows you move forward with positive action instead of wallowing in self pity or anger at another individual. I like to face a problem, clarify a misunderstanding, or apologize if someone has been unintentionally hurt. I don't live by the, "time will heal all things," idea. Nope. Face it, deal with it, talk about it, move on. If someone is not willing to discuss or face the issue, than I will move on without their blessing and forgive. Life is too short to walk around constantly worried about relationships and what may or may not happen. I forgave my Dad, even before he died for the unfair conditions I had to endure while he suffered alcoholism and depression. I became his parent while in my late teens when I should have been immersed in college life. Though I was away at school, I would return to his condo on weekends to clean up his living areas, shop for his groceries, and be his companion. I did not know what else to do. For me, this was normal. And while it made me terribly irritable at the time, I always went back. The love and patience that continued to motivate me to return to him filled my heart every time I saw his smile and received one of his long hugs. There is comfort, joy, and hope in forgiveness.
I'm motivated now to go dig out the hand-made turkey decorations and prepare for the feast with family at the end of the month. Happy Thanksgiving to you all.
