Peter Elbow says that the writer has to decide to give it and stop mincing around making the reader wonder what’s up. It is sometimes so hard to just come out and say what we really think, even if we know what that is.
There are platitudes and homilies about giving, about the blessedness of being generous. I have experienced the sweetness of giving this week. Those sayings feel so true right now.
I had a stunning surprise of receiving an unexpected gift right in the middle of my giving. Which left me with more gratitude piled on top of the satisfaction I had in giving to some desperately poor hospice children’s families.
This isn’t about the shopping and customs and people’s parties. My experience is responding to real need locally. For me it is supporting my daughters – the younger in her palliative nursing and the huge heart she has for caring for people in their misery. Being Mom to my older daughter, supporting her in her quest to build her editing business so that she can function in meaningful work with disability. Making vegan lasagna for her last night and being with her as she navigated a difficult appointment this morning. Such a sweetheart.
With my mother living with me, I don’t see the holiday break as mine like I usually did. I will go here and there, but I have giving to do around the house, in making little special things for meals, and tending to things better than I do when work is on full throttle.
And resting a bit. That is my gift to me. To unwind and not pay much attention to the clock. To relish being able to give to those I love and then have it passed on to people I don’t know.
I am trying to spit it out. To say what I mean. There is a welling happiness that has come from giving and I haven’t wrapped one present.
I admire generosity when I see it in others. I have enjoyed being so myself this week.
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