Today I assessed the gifts I’ll be giving for Christmas. Laid out across my bed in little piles by person – most for my daughter, a few things for siblings who will visit on Christmas day, and another group for dear friends, it looked paltry. Especially Molly’s pile. I imagined them wrapped and under the cute little tree we bought the other other day and thought, “There’s not enough!” and off I went out into the fray to buy more stuff.
I know better. Molly doesn’t care. We’re more of a team than ever, working together on saving pennies where we can. There’s a year and a half left to get her through college. We’re scraping the bottom of the barrel of funds I’ve saved. She knows that. Still, I’m insecure about my ability to deliver on Christmas. Why? It’s ridiculous, I know. My kid is 20. She works. My family and friends work. We are all adults. It’s nice to get and receive things but none of it is necessary. Still, some mother-gene in me cannot imagine disappointing my daughter.
But then I really think about it. I think gratefully about how we all have roofs over our heads, good food to eat. How fortunate we are to flick a switch for light, turn a tap for water. How lucky we are that no one is bombing us. The little piles on my bed (slightly bigger after my outing) are enough. We have enough and that really IS enough.
Enjoy your holiday! (and give books!) xxx