G(u)ilt Gifts

It was the time of year I dreaded for multiple reasons: freezing rain, crowds, holiday hell and as a final topper another year older for me.

But that's not the only reason, the guilt gifts either appear or are spurred on by this time of year.

Upstairs, spread out in small jewelry boxes randomly placed around the room, are several pieces of very nice jewelry. And to the casual observer it would be just that. But if one takes a closer look and really pays attention; it's clear that these are not the gifts of any one giver. Some are white gold, some are yellow, some are my birthstone, some are merely pretty. But all are guilt gifts.

The first guilt gift came from Rob. I have a terrible habit of starting to date someone right around the holidays and we had agreed christmas presents would not be exchanged. But three weeks later is my birthday. And here's where the foot met the banana peel that time.

He would call on his way home from work and announce that he was at the mall, a dreaded location for most men. "I'm at the mall. What do you want?" The question was alarming on every level to me. It put the onus on me to determine both the tone of the gift (romantic, practical, silly) and the price (how much of a gift did I deserve). And you know the anxiety that comes when you know that nothing you can say will affect a good outcome for you? Well put that here. "What do you want? There's Williams Sonoma, Parisian, Banana Republic. What do you want?" The obvious answer was that I didn't want to be having this conversation but I had already started it and was floundering to get out of it.

"I'm sure whatever you get me will be fine."

"No, really. What do you want. I have no idea." Which was heard by me as, "What do you want? I have no idea and I don't want to even try to think about it. I'm not even going to attempt to put any thought into buying you a birthday present."

"Well whatever. I'm sure you'll find something I'll like."

"If you don't tell me what you'd like I won't buy you anything." Which I thought was some sort of crazy bluff. Laugh with me not at me please.

And nothing was exactly what I got.

I remember at one point during the ensuing argument saying, "And you thought nothing was a good idea?" "Well, that's what you said. I didn't think it was a big deal."

Newsflash: it's always a big deal. Even bigger when it's going to hurt my feelings. Assume it will always hurt my feelings just to be on the safe side. My thinking that you give a crap will always be a big deal. And when I finally decide that you definitely don't give a crap it will be an even bigger deal.

I think I got my point accross.

On Valentine's Day an overly gradiose present appeared; a ruby and diamond pendant. "I screwed up your birthday so I thought I should get you something nice." Mixed feelings on that one for me. It was lovely. But he only bought it for me because he felt guilty.

We barely made it until the end of the month. I tried to give the guilty present back but he refused. "I bought it for you because you deserve nice things. Keep it. Wear it."

A day late but not a dollar short.

The next guilt gift would come the following year on my birthday. Because he had pulled up lame on Christmas I got a pair of amethyst earrings. "I hate buying you jewelry but I really felt like a jerk because you went to so much trouble on Christmas for me." Somehow not the sentiment I was looking for. But hey, earlier in the evening I had been bawling my eyes out at a 5 star restaurant in downtown Detroit so go figure. We didn't make it to Valentine's Day.

The third and final guilt gift came from someone who I thought would never set foot in a jewelry store. Come to find out, he has an account there. Perhaps he has lots of guilt. Once again someone forgot my birthday. Nothing. Unless you count a Rueben at a dive bar. and no, I don't.

On Valentine's Day he sat a box in front of me and then sheepishly walked away. A tiny box. any woman knows that box. The really small one that rings come in. And for a moment I had a panic. Please not THAT ring. No, not ready for that one. But it wasn't. It was my birthsone in a setting eerily similiar to my wedding ring that his best friend had repossessed when I asked for a divorce. "I hope you like it. I feel like an ass because you do so much for me."

Well three points for honesty.

Iwanted to yell and scream. Wouldn't it be easier to stop on your way home and buy some flowers every once in a while? Stop and buy a card, there are stores full of them. Something small just because. Something that you saw that you thought would make me smile. Write me a letter.

And then maybe you wouldn't have to dig yourself out of some huge hole.

By the end of the next month he was done too.

I have mixed feelings on those pieces. And almost every time I wear one someone notices and compliments me on them. "Oh, that's so nice." And in my mind I think of the spirit in which it was given. Somehow takes off some of the shine. But on every first date I wear one of them. Both to remind me that someone once loved me and of my failures.