Metal Meredith

Just Ask My Mom

I am not sure why. Typically, these are just gifts from my parents. Not birthday or Christmas, but when gifts go beyond reason. I love getting presents. There just seems to be some sort of guilt that trails just behind them, where it gets close enough that I can smell it before it washes over me. Just when I get that first whiff, I start to unravel all the things I have done to deserve said gift and all the things that I have done or said to not. It is a battle within my head that cannot be won, just compartmentalized for later contemplation.

This month alone I have received so many gifts. Phil gave me a trip to London and to Amsterdam for our wedding anniversary, much of which was sponsored by other monetary gifts. My grandfather is funding the removal of a wall in the house; mom is making up for the rest. Dad just came down and gave some chairs to Phil for his new office; at least I didn�t have to feel too badly for that. But of course, then he stayed and bought us lunch.

I have many friends that have no problem dropping a few bucks here and there for a surprise gift. I often do the same. I am the person that will tell you there is no reason to reciprocate a gift from someone you don�t want to give something to. But if I was on the other end of the receiving, my gift conscience wouldn�t let me live with it. In fact, I quite enjoy giving gifts without the expectation of someone dropping money on me in return. I like the feeling it gives me to give them.

So why do I feel my chest start to get tighter every time mom throws down a credit card? I grew up with parents who had no problem paying for us to eat dinner out a lot, bought us new things all the time (my sister and I both got cars when we turned 16, I was lucky to be the younger one, as my car was new) and made sure we had most things we needed.

Maybe I am still not over the fact that I don�t think I was appreciative enough in my younger days when I was getting all these nice things. Lord knows I was more thankful than friends and my peers. I grew up in a school and neighborhood where everyone�s parents seemed to be coming into their own salaries. Many people my age were driving brand new cars and many of them were totaled or best up by the end of their first year. I wasn�t alone in having the nice car, but I was in my appreciation of it. I remember crying when I got it. I had no idea that I would be getting a brand new car. The GUILT!

My mom was telling me today that my inability to graciously accept a very generous gift is something that drives her nuts. But really, what is worse? My acceptance of every gift and always hoping for a little more or me feeling a little sick and a lot nervous watching the numbers on the cash register rise while purchasing some kid�s clothing?