Forget the List!

One year our family decided that it was getting to be too much for everyone to shop for everyone else, so we decided the adults would pull names out of a hat and buy something for one other person. Everyone dutifully made out their lists, emailed them to the group, and then everyone bought their secret person exactly what they wanted.

BORING.

No good ever came of this. I can't even tell you what I got for Christmas that year, or the next year when we inexplicably did it again.

The most memorable gifts have been the ones we were not expecting, the ones that any amount of shaking did not reveal their contents, the ones that brought forth roars of laughter and happy tears. Here are some of my favorites . . .

Dick The Diver
One year my sister gave my dad a very special gift, one that still delights us to this day. Our father's name is Richard, but sometimes people jokingly called him Dick, even though he didn't like being referred to as Dick, except on those rare occasions when he talked about himself in the third person. He was also a scuba diver in his younger days in sunny Florida. You can imagine the shrieks of laughter in our house on Christmas Eve when he unwrapped this gift . . .

The ultimate Christmas ornament. The tag read "Dick the Diver", perfect! Dick the Diver still hangs from the chandelier in my mom's dining room where we hung him on Christmas Eve 2006. He's been hanging there for so long that I don't think he'll ever actually adorn a Christmas Tree.

Tom Jones' Underwear
My parents were always big Tom Jones fans. I remember listening to Tom Jones as a little kid - Delilah, What's New PussyCat, I'll Never Fall in Love Again - ah, the sounds of my youth. Apparently my sister was on a roll in 2006 when it came to unique gift-giving because when my parents unwrapped the gift she gave them, they found this!

Wow. First Dick the Diver, and then this. I have no idea what I gave them that year - it probably didn't hold a candle to Dick the Diver and Tom Jones' bikini underpants.

Earrings
My dad had a habit of going out on December 24th and buying gifts for everyone at the last minute. We'd unwrap our gifts warily, never knowing what oddity we might find. As we got older he started buying bottles of booze for everyone, which always went over well. But my favorite Christmas gift of all was the last one he gave me.

By Christmas 2010 ALS had taken a lot from my Dad. We were in Philadelphia that year since my sister had just had her second baby. Tato was still able to climb the stairs to the third floor to the bedroom my parents shared during their visits, but his speech was slurred, he drooled a lot and he was tired all the time. We spent a lot of time holding the new baby, watching "Sound of Music" and crying, and of course, drinking plenty of vodka.

Sometime during the afternoon of Dec. 24th, Tato disappeared for a short while. We all looked at each other knowingly - he'd gone out to do his last minute Christmas shopping. I remember nervously waiting for him to return, hoping he was ok and not overdoing it. He returned about an hour later, his typical nonchalant look on his face as he hid the paper bag behind his back.

Apparently he'd gone around the corner to a consignment store that my mom, my sister and I all loved and frequented on every visit to Philly. He bought each of us a pair of earrings. I couldn't tell you what earrings he bought for my mom and my sister, but here are the ones he bought me.

I don't think there is a single gift that I've gotten for Christmas that means as much to me as these earrings do. The fact that he went out of the house on that cold day in his weakened state and managed to buy these for me means more to me than anything. In the past year since he passed away I've worn them a lot - right after he died I wore them every day for months. I couldn't bring myself to wear any other earrings.

Dick the Diver brings us the laughter that always filled the house when my dad was around. That laughter is still there, it's just tinged with tears for now. My earrings make me feel like I carry a piece of my Tato around with me wherever I go. The best gifts aren't expensive or fancy. The best gifts give you something you can't see or touch - laughter, comfort, joy.

So I'm done with Christmas lists. Sometimes the gift that means the most doesn't even seem like anything spectacular at the time you receive it - its meaning and significance become clear years later, when you can't imagine a time when you didn't have it.