re-Gifted

He showed up on my doorstep, pretty much, one evening after work.

I considered him to be a gift. He showed up on my doorstep, pretty much, one evening after work. I was two years into my life as a divorced woman and single mother. My existence began to slowly embody the phrase, “All work and no play.” I was in the rebuilding phase and had no time for the selfish pursuit of romantic love. Yet, there it was, in a beautifully wrapped, perfect package.

His separation was recent and his wounds were still fresh. He had left his wife, a few months prior to our encounter, though he never wanted to leave. He felt it was what he should do after her countless infidelities. Since he was a man of principle, he moved out and described his loss as “profound”. He was in mourning and I willingly placed myself before him to lighten the weight of his grief.

We had known each other in passing and there seemed to be a fateful element to our current meeting. We came from vastly different worlds yet we bonded over our struggles with failed marriages and single-parenthood. We confided in one other and trusted that our hearts would be held safe in each other’s hands.

By all accounts, he was out of my league. I came from an immigrant family and grew up with very little means. While I managed to get through college and eventually graduate school, my decision to pursue education only reinforced my low status. He had pedigree. Yet, our friendship blossomed and when our chemistry became apparent, I no longer accepted the belief that I should remain in my station. Still, I realized that our unlikely courtship likely had an expiration date and I appreciated each moment with him. I felt that he believed me to be a gift in his life as well.

A gift is often unexpected; a pleasant surprise. It can be beautiful or it can be useful. Perhaps it’s both. Sometimes its beauty or purpose is only temporary. Sometimes its impermanence is what makes it beautiful. A gift only has meaning if it is valued and the recipient recognizes its worth.

I was once witness to a rather awkward gift exchange between two of my aunts one Christmas. Aunt Fran handed over the box and upon unwrapping it, Aunt Em’s holiday joy turned sour before she even exposed its contents. She studied the crystal bowl, quickly returned it to its packaging and uttered an insincere “thank you.” Aunt Fran quipped, “what’s the matter, don’t you like it?” “Oh yes, yes I do, responded Aunt Em. I gave you this exact candy dish for Christmas last year!” To which Aunt Fran responded, “And I gave it to you the year before that!” Never had I ever observed a more cringe-worthy interaction in my young life. I recall feeing badly for the forlorn re-gift.

It was nice enough, the candy dish. While it may not have had a distinguished provenance, the cut crystal design gave it a luxurious feel. And if the pattern wasn’t suited to one’s taste, it’s craftmanship could have been appreciated. Perhaps the aunts did recognize its worth. Hence the re-gifting rather than carting it out to the curb on trash day. I never found out what became of that candy dish. I remain hopeful that Aunt Em re-gifted it to someone who found the dish to be both beautiful and useful.

He was a beautiful gift that came at the perfect time. I was a useful gift that appeared for a specific purpose at not quite the right time. While it was not an equal exchange, I was grateful and so was he.

A gift can be kept for a time or a lifetime. It may appear when needed and can vanish when it has run its course. We might hold onto this gift until we find the next worthy recipient, taking great care to keep it safe and unscathed, Thus, allowing it to be rediscovered by someone who may find it to be a treasure.