Holiday Makeover: Giving and Receiving

I take on the topic of holiday gifts with trepidation. As I reflect on my personal journey of ambivalence around the tradition of gift exchange, I find pockets of pain that resist further probing. Hot buttons and exposed nerves. In spite of this response—and because of it—I am wading into the deeper water.

What could be more central to Christmas than presents? A tree without colorful boxes beneath is incomplete. “Are you ready for Christmas?” means “Are you done shopping?” Santa Claus. St. Nicholas. Three kings. How could any of this have an overtone of pain?

Should I live her a gift? What if I don’t, and she gives me one? What if I do, and she didn’t intend to? The dance of reciprocity can be awkward and painful, especially when expectations are in transition. A few years ago, I proposed that Lyle and I stop buying gifts for each other, and plan instead for a shared purchase or activity. That first year, he stopped. I didn’t. When Christmas morning came, I felt hurt despite myself. A pocket of pain.

What do we need (or want)? Many of us have all we need, and more. As I age, a lifetime collection of “stuff” is more of a burden than a treasure. Each gift brings, with the love of the giver, a mark of sentimental attachment that brands it non-disposable. A mixed blessing.

Surprise or fondest wish? Some of us love a surprise. We are pleased by a gift that reflects the giver. Others covet specific treats that they don’t indulge on their own. They want the beloved to know them so deeply that the perfect gift appears without prompting. Under the tree, we find Mr. Surprise presenting his own Fondest Wish, and wondering what went wrong. Oops!

Lyle and I have moved past that first awkward experiment, and decorative boxes under our tree are now empty. We are investing our shared indulgence in a holiday trip. We still have fun exchanging surprises with a few family members and close friends but, by and large, we celebrate in other ways.

I am reluctant to admit this ambivalence about gift exchange. It seems small-minded and ungrateful to question the purity of a practice rooted in generosity and love. I put it out there nonetheless, and welcome your response. How do you navigate the waters of change as your children grow beyond Santa, your bank balance falters, your storage area overflows, and your imagination struggles with the search for the perfect expression of your love?

Until the next time, go well.

Pam