The Impossible Quest

The Impossible Quest

By

Jane T. Pait

“I can’t wait to get to Mama Irene’s house. It’s Christmas and I am positive that she will love this year’s present. I’ve finally figured out what she really likes after many years of gifting.”

Our family is rather large, so Christmas shopping is always a challenge. I could buy the perfect gift for everyone, if I had a million dollars. Truthfully, I have always been able to buy fairly successful gifts. Everyone seemed to be happy with my choices. Except for one person, and that person is one that my husband expected me to provide with perfect presents. She is his mother.  I call her Mama Irene.

Don’t get me wrong. My mother-in-law is a wonderful woman. She raised six kids by herself.  In fact, when her husband left her to marry another woman, my mother-in-law was pregnant with her sixth child. She was given little support from her ex-husband and received no Social Services support. She cleaned houses and did laundry for other folks to support her family. My husband was nine years old when his dad left; that was 70 years ago. 

When Stew and I married, he immediately gave me the task of finding his mom’s most wonderful, amazing, very awesome gifts. I thought it was because he valued my judgement as a woman.  So there I was an innocent 18-year-old being given the impossible quest. I soon figured out his game. He, too, had failed to buy a gift that she would not return. 

That last baby of his mom’s turned out to be another boy and the center of his mother’s universe. She loved her other two boys and her three daughters, but there was a special bond with her son who “had never had a daddy at home.” Her words. I totally understood that. There was a bit of a problem though, because in her eyes he could do no wrong and was perfect. (Thankfully, he never robbed a bank.) To my dismay, every present he bought was perfect. “Just what she wanted.” I, on the other hand, had failed many times. She returned every gift and just took the cash. It did not matter how much time I spent shopping. I finally noticed a lot of R. J. the youngest son’s gifts were useful. Some were down right exotic. Did I mention he was an officer in the Air Force and traveled a lot? He and his family spent several years in Japan. It is hard to compete with silk house gowns from China, real Jade from Japan, Ming vases—well, maybe not Ming vases, but you get the idea.

After observing R.J.’s gifts for a few years, I decided to follow in his footsteps, not the exotic or expensive footsteps, but the useful footsteps. One Christmas, I bought a nightgown and robe, her favorite shade of blue.  I even included the slippers. I could tell when she opened the package, it would all go back. The next year, I bought the throw rugs (that is southern for area rugs) she said she would love to have to place in front of her two living room couches. Returned. One year, I just knew that I had the right gift! I noticed that she needed tableware. You know, forks, spoons, knives. I bought a boxed eight place setting for her. She seemed to like it, but my husband took one look and said… Well, basically he said it was cheap and I had to take it back. Of course, the next present she opened was from R.J. and it was real silverware complete with velvet lined rosewood box. I was crushed and angry at my husband since he did not make his comments in private and that box, my goodness. That was the day I returned his ”gift” of the quest and told him he could shop for his mom “from now on!” I promptly took the tableware to my mom. I wasn’t about to take it back to the store.

You are probably saying, “About time.” But, I don’t like to lose, fail, whatever you want to call it. So like the determined, hard headed softie that I am, I promptly took back the quest and tried a few more times. In the 30 years that Mama Irene was my quest, I had three near successes: the fancy sheet set with lace edging, a small table and lamp with blue shade, and a porcelain Emmett Kelly figurine. I wouldn’t tell her where I bought them, so she couldn't take them back. I even told her the Emmet Clown figurine came from the local five and dime store.  I sort of came close with the white linen tablecloth she said she needed, but back it went to the store. Later, R.J. gave her one just like it for her birthday; she loved it. No real surprise there. I must admit I really felt like giving up! However, my husband realized the truth first.

“Jane, just give her money. Mama has had a rough time through the years. She loves to get money.”

“But, Stew, you don’t understand! Money does not say love. A thoughtful gift says love. I want our gift to say how much we love her. I want it to be special.”

               “To Mama, trust me, money will say love very loudly.”

I gave in, but I refused to put money in a card or write a check. I wracked my brain for months trying to think of an amazingly clever and fun way to give her the money. I deeply wanted to be successful.  After all, my pride was at stake. Understanding my problem, my friend Helen took me to a unique gift shop.

               “Look, Helen! I think I have it. This wicker tree will be perfect!”

               Well, here we are! I will know shortly after dinner if my gift will finally be a success. The dinner was delicious; the conversation was somewhat loud; the children were having fun playing outside. Then, it was finally time to call everyone together and open presents. I couldn’t wait! When my turn came, I presented her with the decorated wicker tree. She gave me a puzzled look and said, “Oh, a Christmas tree. Well… it is uh pretty. Will you set it on the T.V. for me?”

               “Well, Mama Irene, the decorations are your real present. You can have the decorations, but you cannot keep the tree.”

“What? Oh, I will keep it and look at it for a while and you can get it next time you come.”

               “No, that won’t work. I have to have the tree today. I’m giving my mom and dad decorations for Christmas, too. I’ll need the tree, so go ahead and remove your decorations.”

               By this time everyone’s attention was on me and my seemingly unreasonable request. Even the children had stopped playing with their toys. The grownups had stopped talking and eyebrows were arched steeply. But I just sweetly insisted she remove the decorations from my tree.              

               “Okay.” She began to take the ornaments, tinsel, and ribbons from the tree. I handed her a small box to place them in.

               “Mama, you have to untie the red bows and remove the green flowers from the tree. And take the paperclips off the paper flowers. I will need those. I use a lot of paperclips at school.”

               Just before the rest of the family’s patience with me was exhausted, I heard. “It’s money! All the green flowers are really money!”

               Everyone realized the joke and had a big laugh as Mama Irene removed that money way faster than I was able to put it on the tree.  After that year, Mama Irene always got money. I couldn’t fool her anymore, so I just placed the money in the package with a small, useful gift. Every Christmas after that, she always laughed heartily as she retold the story of the “Money Tree.” That’s how I knew that I had finally completed my quest.