My Mom gave me a piece of work from Jaime Winton Studio.
We exchange gifts on Christmas Eve, and it is the first item I lift from the bag I know will be filled with socks and a couple pair of pants and a bottle of Pinot and I stop and think how lovely, how nice to have a reminder and I tell my Mom a story.
It was last Saturday when a friend, her daughter and I were acting as door to door salespeople though both of us strongly believe in a person's right to only be disturbed by a knock on the front door if said person has invited guests or the knock comes from someone who has called beforehand. Or Domino's of course. For just that day we convinced ourselves we were working on behalf of greater good and duty though still it was not a comfortable situation for either of us. About halfway into our endeavor my friend knocked on a door which was opened by my great uncle, my maternal grandfather's brother, Uncle Jack. I had no idea he lived there although apparently he has done so now for thirty-five years.
It could not have been anymore than sixty seconds of watching as my friend explained to him why we were there and no more than sixty seconds more of him explaining how he agreed with us to the point he had no personal use for what the company offered but he, too, was in complete support because of what it could bring the community. And I just watched him and felt all warm and cozy and his nose and his eyes and his smile and how exquisitely kind he treated strangers at his door. No more than two minutes. I could have stood there quietly watching for many more.
My friend thanked him, wished him a Merry Christmas and I then stepped up to the door, took his hand and said, Uncle Jack.
Yes? He looked puzzled.
I am Shea. Billy's granddaughter.
He laughed. We hugged and it wasn't even a minute more of a sweet little reunion and me asking how his granddaughter, Jaime, was and if he would be seeing her and her two beautiful girls for Christmas.
Mom smiles. She understands what it is like to see or talk with one of her Dad's two remaining brothers, how still you become when they speak or smile or laugh and how maybe, yes, it does feel well with your soul. That's it.
Today I am grateful for reminders and connections and my Mom who never fails to wow with a gift.