And the Saga Continues...

A Mother's Day Retrospective: Part II

Somehow I was able to conceal my initial surprise over my Mother's Day gift, and, of course, disappointment soon gave way to guilt over acting ungratefully. It wasn't that I had harbored any great expectations for a gift, as I woud have been happy with flowers and a card. I think I was just confused over why this particular gift was inspired by me.

As the days passed, so too did the memory of the gift. Stowed away from sight in the closet, only the box remained to remind me of its presence. And I ignored that too by finding a temporary home for it in the corner of the office.

As we fell into the rhythm of the week, my mind settled on my Valentine's gift, which was not only sentimental, but also one of the more thoughtful gifts I have ever received. Having enjoyed our courtship while in college in Albany (I know, nothing says romance like Albany), as well as a memorable trip to Lake George, my husband had tracked down two antique maps of both locations, along with gift certificates to have them framed for our home.

If you've been to my house, you know that our walls are a virtual gallery of our children and, in keeping with keeping our space personal, the prints were the perfect present to help furnish some of our more barren walls.

I decided to be proactive and finally get these prints framed. On Tuesday, I headed to a nearby framer with kids in tow. The salesman was meticulous, informative, and slightly pricey. The end result was two gorgeous frames and a bill on top of the already generous gift certificates. In my mind, it was well worth it. Unfortunately, I was the only one who felt that way.

As my husband headed home from work, he made his usual call home to inquire about the day and report on his own. I casually reported on the day's events, with a brief mention of the trip to get frames. He asked about the price and I answered honestly.

He asked again.

I responded again.

Silence.

Apparently, despite knowing each other better than anyone, we quickly learned that we differed on what constitutes a reasonable price for custom framing. In truth, I usually head to Kohls for matted frames that are always on sale (why bother advertising a sale?...they're always 70% off), but these were not only special, but also a unique size.

After our heated "conversation" ended, my thoughts returned to the enemy lurking in the nearby closet. It was taunting me. Gift ideas were colliding in my head as I was having a hard time reconciling my feelings.

Again, days passed.

I shared my concealed thoughts about the gift with my usually reasonable mother. I make it a point never to bring outside parties into our disagreements, but I felt the need to share my thoughts with someone who may give me honest feedback.

She did:

"Oh, don't be upset. Men look at things very differently than women. If it makes you feel any better, your father once gave me quite a gift for my birthday."

Not believing that anything could outdo the Hoover, I pressed her to share.

"Well, I had just had your brother Paul and we were still struggling quite a bit as most young families do when they are first starting out. So, I never expected much; but when your father left a single envelope with the promise of a surprise inside, I let myself get excited... and that was my mistake."

"Why, what was it?"

"A check....for twenty-five dollars." (shout out to Rob Panasci)

I was struck into a rare silence.

"Yes, and it took me three days before I could control my anger enough to let him hear what I thought of his gift."

"Wow" was all I could muster.

"And just remember the gift your grandfather gave to Grandma for their first Christmas together".

Grandpa? That wonderful, cuddly Santa-of-a-guy Grandpa? Surely he could do no wrong.

"Yep, he gave her an ironing board and she cried for a week....and he couldn't figure out why. So, you see, you are far from alone."

I hung up the phone more disillusioned than ever. But I had blogged about this!

And then it was Thursday and Olivia discovered the box.

To be continued....