The Perfect Gift

Carol of the Bells is my earworm of the day. I am good with that, especially when it gets to the E major scale of Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas with the heavy octaves on the left-hand keys. Ah, yes…great to be out shopping with my worm and warm thoughts of my beloved. Of course, what would shopping be without the ritual stop at Starbucks for the caffeine lift that’s going to keep me going while I mall-meander with the masses?

“Hi, what can I get for you today,” the barista asks the person in front of me. I can see the deer in the headlights look from the woman ordering and I know this is not going to be pretty. Yes, the holiday season makes it a little more confusing with the Irish Cream Cold Brew, the Peppermint Hot Chocolate, the Eggnog Latte but, come on, people…how long have we had our obsession with the green and white branded purveyor of caffeinated drinking decadence? Please make the effort to know your order before you get to the front of the line. I can feel a little knot forming in the pit of my stomach.  

Sure enough, the woman has a litany of first-time buyer questions. “Could you show me how big a Grande is? Do you have regular coffee - not too strong? Do you have almond milk?” I could see our millennial barista respectfully refraining from rolling their eyes, but I definitely had the eye-roll emoji rolling around with my earworm. The emoji and my earworm were playing nicely together, making the moment cheery and bright.

The novice patron continues. “What have you got to go with that - something without nuts? Preferably gluten-free vegan.” Oh, for the love of all things holy! The stomach knot just became a stevedore stopper knot in my gut, that’s how annoying this was. I just need to keep working the worm and breathing calmly. Songs of good cheer, Christmas is here! 

“Yes, how may I help you today,” the barista asks me.

“May I have a quad shot espresso with steamed breve?”

“A macchiato?” The barista is looking for clarity.

“No, thanks, just a quad espresso with steamed breve.”

“Do you want that foamy? Dry? What size of cup? Anything to go with that?” Obviously, more clarity is required.

Maybe the ritual stop for caffeine was going to ruin my Christmas is here! cheer. Breathe. As I wait for my fragrant, dark delight, I watch people and I listen to the conversations. The intense mother and adult daughter duo, with their frou-frou, whipped cream concoctions topped with candy cane bits, are clearly having a dilemma about what to buy Daddy.

“No, don’t buy your father that. He won’t use it.”

“Well, then what should I get him?! He’s so hard to buy for and I don’t have money to burn so it needs to be something small but meaningful.” 

“Buy him a book. He loves to read.” 

“Well, that’s a problem too because I don’t know what he likes to read.” 

And so, it goes, the volley of words between mother and daughter about Daddy. Daddy is sitting somewhere, oblivious to all the huff-guff about his Christmas morning gift-opening happiness. 

Then there is the couple sitting with their fingers intertwined and toes touching under the table. Their conversation is much more playful.

“So, what are you getting me for Christmas? I know what I’m getting you,” says the fellow with a big grin.

“Really? Is it bigger than a breadbox?” So cute, how does she know about breadboxes? She’s much too young to have used one or likely even seen one, but she definitely nailed the colloquialism. I decide I like her.

“Yup,” exclaims her fellow. She looks crestfallen. Clearly, she was thinking something smaller than a breadbox would make a nice present, perhaps something small and shiny, sparkly even. I decide he doesn’t deserve her. Does he even know what would be the perfect gift for her? Ah, the joys of holiday giving - fraught with tangled human emotions…love, hope, and disappointment. It reminds me of one of my favourite holiday movies, Love Actually, where it’s clear that not everyone gets what they want for Christmas, or in life for that matter.

No time for maudlin reverie. The caffeine is starting to kick in and it’s time to find the perfect gift for the object of my affection. I am reminded of the daughter shopping for Daddy. I, too, would be looking for something small but meaningful. Something my beloved could use. Something he would enjoy. Something perfect for him. So, is the mall really where I should be? I know that Christmas usually makes people bring out their best shopping game. You can see the lists, the focus, the angst when something is sold out. But even with all that, there are still the mindless meanderers, walking around with that glazed look in their eyes. How will they fare on Christmas morning?

My first stop is a specialty shop that carries the kind of sweaters he appreciates yet I don’t see any colours that he would like. His favourite hobby is an expensive one and there really aren’t any sport stores in the mall that cater to it. Maybe something culinary - he had mentioned that espresso machine but that was likely so I would stop buying such expensive espressos from the neighbourhood Starbucks.

Who am I kidding? I don’t want to be wandering around the mall. I don’t want to be caught up in the holiday fever. I don’t want the glazed eyes and the sweaty sheen that comes from dressing too warmly for mall-meandering. I just don’t want to be here. And just like that, the bells stop caroling.

___________________________________

“Hey, hon, how are you doing today?” He doesn’t reply immediately. I can see he is heavily medicated. The intravenous tube is relentlessly and rhythmically dripping its potent brew into his veins. A nurse hurries into the room. 

“He’s not doing too well today, Mrs. Grant. He had a rough night. We’re hoping today is better.” I’m hoping so too. Just then he stirs.

“Oh, there you are!” I notice the shadow of a smile on his lips. “I brought you a little present to kick off the holiday season. How are you feeling? Are you up for a little unwrapping action?”

“Are you thinking I might not make it to Christmas?” 

“Oh, hell, no getting anything past you, eh, Gruntie?” And with that we both smile through our tears. The perfect gift - time and good cheer. Christmas is here!