I’ve never been one for the ritual of holiday gift giving. For me, it has actually always felt very “material” and not at all about what I hope to express to my loved ones when I give them a gift.
When I give a gift, it’s meant to say, “I love you with all my heart and soul.”
This makes the periodic smattering of “gift giving holidays” on each year’s calendar a complete pain in the ass. There’s this pressure — a stifling weight.
If I give a gift only because of the holiday, I’m not being genuine and the trinket I’m giving is likely devoid of thought of the person I love. If I don’t give a gift, am I confidant the person who should receive the ritualistic token understands my intention?
I’ve spent the last few years focused on giving my loved ones “the gift of a lifetime.” Something incredible, beyond belief, so memorable that the gift itself becomes in some way my legacy. Like taking my niece to front row at Taylor Swift and giving her a beautiful outfit to wear.
No one will ever have that time we spent together and there’s no amount of winning lotto tickets I wouldn’t trade for more of that time.
The endless barrage of “Father’s Day” reminder advertisements can’t help but make those of us without a father still alive remember that we don’t have the inconvenience of this holiday to deal with. A reflection on Father’s Day… was one of my first posts on this blog.
Though never a big to-do for my family, I’d give a great deal for the obligation of a “father’s day” whatever with my family and my father. I’d give weeks of time to hold my grandmother’s hand again.
There is something greater here. These holidays are an alarm bell reminding us to stop and pay attention to the love we have in our lives.
When you take a moment to pay attention to that love, it becomes so much greater than a forced day of sentiment. It becomes the undeniable and absolute truth that is love, shrouded as love is in appreciation, compassion, forgiveness, understanding, gratitude, and joy.
In light of recent events, along side my goal of celebrating the “unsung,” and because my father has gone on to a place where something like “Father’s Day” is inconsequential, I’m asking myself why this feeling of true connection with those we love has to be isolated to days in the year…birthdays, holidays, whatever.
Why don’t we love each other every day? What is preventing me from making sure there is never a doubt how much I care?
Imagine how quickly we’d defy the laws of gravity, buoyed by the love available to us and finally unleashed from the cages we tend to stow it in in the pantry we call a calendar.
I say we learn to defy gravity.
Happy Father’s Day, PSK.