Gift...Guide?

Gift guides are always puzzling to me. As I write this, it is November 29^th and I feel behind. Not for any logical reasons other than because marketing and commercials have made me feel like the holiday party has started without me. The ads have not explicitly said- YOU ARE BEHIND- but the sheer image of happy, energetic people dressed in red and white, packages wrapped under perfect Christmas trees in homes with floor to ceiling windows decked out with lights and snow, and the sales that “won’t last” all contribute to my feeling behind.

In urgency, I turn to Gift Guides by the “experts.” For my Mother the options generally go something like: gourmet cookies from a bakery in New York, an edible gift which will last about a week; slippers, which she already has a well-loved pair; a gift given in her name, which my Mother will not be impressed; a $300 cashmere turtleneck that I wouldn’t even spend on myself. None of those particularly jump out at me. For Dad, there are gadgets, knives, fancy shaving kits, tools, and, again, slippers. Gift guides for Sisters are a little more fun, although I do not have a sister. For Brothers, my options are make-your-own beer kit or organically grown coffee beans, only he buys cheap beer and drinks Folgers, a coffee table book about world’s best guitarists, but I’m pretty sure he’d re-gift that, a tacky board game he’d never play, or saltwater taffy from Maine he will never eat. It’s no wonder I feel a bit lost. But what would I do differently if I had a huge following and could devise a gift guide? I ponder this.

For Mothers: plants she can transplant to her garden or that will slowly bloom in the house with little to no care, books if she likes to read, cookbooks if she likes to cook, memoirs or biographies if she likes people, particularly famous people, things to keep her warm and safe in winter, save the jewelry for Mother’s Day or her birthday, and if she’s adventurous one of those posh subscription boxes.

For Dads: Keep it practical. Get what he’s into because most men don’t like new things to try. Does he fish? Play tennis? Read? Maybe he also needs something to keep him warm or safe in winter? Throw in some fudge or cookies or liquor but save the sappy stuff, like pictures of the grandchildren or monogramed stationary, for Father’s Day or his birthday.

For Sisters, if you have even an ounce of anything in common, buy her what you would want her to get you. And if you are completely different people, buy her what she would want you to buy her. Or so I’ve heard.

For Brothers, call him and ask him what he needs or wants. He will tell you. He will also tell you what not to get him and be prepared if he asks for cash. And if you decide to get him cash, save all of your Amazon boxes and make him open box after box, nesting doll style, until he gets to the final tiny box to find his Ben Franklin, or Alexander Hamilton, or however much you can afford to get him.

I ponder more, and conclude, that no one would want to read this Gift Guide even if it is honest to a fault, because we like to browse and see the shiny possibilities that we would never come up with ourselves. We might begin to believe that we need matching turtlenecks or plaid pajamas or any number of ideas those images and ads are selling, but in the end, the people I love and the people I buy gifts for are just regular people who aren’t going to turn into beer craftsman or part from his Mach Three razor he has shaved with for over thirty years. And that is okay. Although we’ll never quit buying gifts for one another, we know deep down the holidays are about the things that truly last: people and love. Sometimes the gifts are not Gift Guide worthy, but the real gift is you, and her, and him, and being at the table.