I was deeply touched by a gift given to me today. As many of you know, I have a sign on my forehead that says, "give me stuff" and I am fortunate to be offered and accept such gifts. Today was no exception.
I had the pleasure of having lunch with an old friend (not old to look at, but old in the sense that we have not seen each other in 18 years). The conversation was reminiscent and engaging. The food was palatable and time passed too quickly.
As lunch came to a close, we wished each other well and he asked me to wait a minute while he retrieved a gift for me, or for my son Quinn, from the car. Needless to say that piqued my interest, "What could he be giving that would interest either Quinn or I?". He came back with a bag with a bulky item in it. As I peered in he asked, "You know what that is .....?". I said, "An Irish sweater! Is this one my mom made?" He said, "Yes."
Emotions flooded me as I remembered my mom's hands working the knitting needles. Remembering the love she put into such things. I hugged the sweater and hugged him next. He gave some lame reason for giving it up like he has gained weight or something like that, I appreciate the thoughtfulness behind the intention. What my friend did not realize is how much this gift would mean to me at this particular time.
As for my mom, you just never know when she will show up.