Dearest Rachel –
Well, it’s just how things work in the American holiday calendar, I suppose. We no sooner get through with one that, by name and nature, reminds us to be both content and grateful for what we have, than we begin on the one whose whole purpose seems to be the diametric opposite of that. I say “seems to be” since we both know better than that – we both grew up in environments that reminded us of the real “reason for the season” and decried the commercialization of said season – but there’s no getting away from that aspect of the American Christmas experience.
Nor is there anything particularly wrong with it, particularly in small doses. “The business of America is business,” a president of ours said about a century ago, and let’s face it, industry has more to recommend it than indolence. In that light, our consumerism is practically patriotic, assuming the goods we buy for others are, in fact, locally sourced, as opposed to being made in China or the like. And there’s a certain amount of wistful nostalgia in making an annual pilgrimage to the mall (or the shopping district of choice) to obtain what we need to get for others in commemoration of the big day just over three weeks away (good grief, is it really that soon?). Finding stuff for everybody offers a pleasant little dopamine hit that reminds one that, if you can, it really is “better to give than receive.”
The thing is, there’s a certain point where just about everyone on one’s shopping list is at a similar stage in life, where we all have little to no need of anything more than what we have – and most of what we want, we can (and do) either buy for ourselves, or can’t acquire it with money in the first place. This makes life for those of us who wish to give gifts more than a little problematic. We have these people to shop for – who we want to give as much to as we do those who can come up with ideas – but without any ideas, we’re at a loss. When nothing is suggested, nothing can be assumed to be the ‘right’ gift.
Now, this assumption probably stems from my experience with you, where you knew exactly what you wanted, and only rarely were you willing to accept substitutions. If something wasn’t what you wanted, you didn’t want it, end of story (unless what you wanted was provably not attainable; then, there could be compromises made). However, as strict as that sounds to one unaccustomed to it, this request usually came with detailed instructions; you would let me know what it was you wanted, and where to find it. It’s not as if I was required to read your mind regarding your Christmas wishes. It made things easy for me; too easy, in fact, as I’m now stuck for figuring out what others might want for the holiday at this point.
At least some of them have a customary gift or two that I’ve been providing annually that needs replenishing yet again this year, as the old one gets used up. Others have expressed an interest in an item or two a while back, giving me at least some vague insight as to what to consider getting for them, if I can find it. But neither of these are universal situations; without a list of possibilities, I’m still at a bit of a loss for a few people.
Not that I really have any right to complain about others, though, since I have yet to put together any such list to aid those who would wish to shop for me. Oh, I’ve mentioned a few nominal items here and there, any which should be relatively easy to find, but on the whole, I don’t lack for much in the way of material things. Meanwhile the things I really want – time and relationships – aren’t material things, nor can they be purchased. Either that, or if they could, I think that they would either be fake enough for me to recognize as such, and as such neither like nor want; or the purchase itself might be considered a criminal act, which hardly needs to be said would be undesirable as well. So the list has to be a short one of insignificant items to occupy would-be shoppers.
It makes me wonder if those I’m shopping for myself are like that, as well. Are there intangible things that they really want, as opposed to the odd doodad or gewgaw that can be found at this or that store counter? In which case, is there anything that can be done toward those wishes? Or are they actually completely satisfied with their life and what they have – in keeping with the holiday we’ve just celebrated – and their lists are just to keep those of us who want to honor them with a gift busy on their behalf this season?
If the latter, more power to them – they are better folk than I – but I’d still like to give something to them or do something for them, if only in keeping with the season. And if the former, well… at least I can relate to them on that level, if we only knew about what we each really wanted. As it is, I don’t, so that relation is only strained rather than strengthened at this time.
So that’s where we stand on this Cyber Monday, honey; after listing all the things we’re thankful for, and how we really have everything we need, we have to dive back into the maelstrom of dissatisfaction, where we need to find out what others still lack and want, while providing a similar list of ours to them, so that we all can fulfill what we perceive as our obligations around the holiday to come. Such is our societal habit, for better or worse – mostly worse, I suppose. Still, it’s better to give to others, however imperfectly, than to withhold everything for only our own use; if nothing else, there’s that dopamine rush of finding something you’re sure they’ll like, and crossing that task off the list.
Anyway, this is what I need to get on with at this point, honey. So keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m definitely going to need it over the next few weeks.

2 thoughts on “The Lists We Still Need to Deal With”