The perfect Christmas gift

The Boy called home last week and asked, “Dad, what do you think I should give Mom for Christmas?”

Being the great dad that I am, I had the perfect answer: “Son, all she wants is to spend some time with you. That will be the perfect gift, and it won’t cost you anything.”

Of course, that answer wasn’t good enough. For the next 20 minutes I listened to The Boy describe all the things he thought would make a great present. Or at least I was supposed to be listening. His question caused me to remember a similar one asked my dad some 40 years ago. Way back then, neither my three brothers, my sister, nor I knew what to give Mom either.

Twin Brother Mark wanted to give Mom the green and red ashtray he made in ceramic class. I told him it wasn’t a good idea. Mom had stopped smoking the year before.

Older Brother Richard suggested we all chip in and buy Mom a new dryer. Somehow she’d blamed us for tearing up the old one. Something to do with all the dirt and rocks still left in our pockets after our days of digging out at Cliff Condos.

Big Brother James counted the money and said, “Fifteen dollars and 20 cents is not enough for a new dryer,” then had another suggestion. “Why don’t we buy her Rock’em Sock’em Robots? That way, she could see something else fighting in the house besides us.”

“Robots aren’t a good idea,” I said. “Bubba Hanks got them for his birthday last month, and they were broken within two weeks. What about some patience? Mom’s always saying she’s losing hers.”

“You can’t buy patience,” The Sister said as she flipped her hair. “That’s silly. But a pretty new hat would be nice.”

We all groaned at the thought of a hat as Dad walked into the living room with a suggestion of his own. “Why don’t y’all buy her a wool scarf? I’ll pitch in some money so you can buy it. She’ll keep it for years and wear it every winter. Besides, she’ll need it on our trip.”

That’s when Dad told us that he and Mom were leaving the day after Christmas. They’d be gone for a couple of days. He said they were going on a little vacation without us. At the time I didn’t understand how they could enjoy a vacation without kids along. Now I do.

“Dad, are you listening? What do you think — a new sound card for her computer, or a MP3 player?”

The Boy’s question pulled me back to the present and I said, “You know, it’s getting really cold out. How about a wool scarf? I’ll pitch in some money to help you buy it. It’ll be nice and last a long time. She’ll enjoy it. And since you’re spending the week before Christmas with me, spend Christmas with your mom and the week after. I’ll be out of town.”

Every year, The Wife and I give each other the perfect gift. One we never grow tired of. Time alone together. This year it’ll be four days and three wonderful nights in Asheville, N.C. We’re gonna see the Biltmore Estates, the largest privately-owned house in America, all decorated and lit up for the holiday.

But the decorations and lights will pale in comparison to the twinkle I’ll see when I gaze into The Wife’s eyes. Somehow, after almost eight years, she still loves me and I love her. Unconditional love: Now isn’t that the real Christmas gift?