After another hectic shopping season, most of us want a break. But for my daughter, shopping was always in season. On a regular basis, I’d find an LL Bean package on my front porch with a sweater in it for me from Sara.
“Why now?” I would ask. “It’s not Christmas or Easter or Mother’s Day. Why now?” And she would always reply, “Why not now?”
She had a gift for gifting because she paid careful attention to the people she loved, their preferences and qualities and quirks. And so I would sometimes find a six-pack of beer on my kitchen counter or a couple of chocolate brownies.
For her stepdad, it was Scottish shortbread; for her husband it was miniature cars. Why now? Why not now? It was not only the way she gave gifts, it was the way she lived life. If there was an opportunity to be generous, to be spontaneous, she seized it.
She didn’t learn this from me who grew up with a careful frugal father. Or, maybe she learned that from me and wanted to be different. “Sara,” I said once, “I don’t need another sweater.” She laughed. “I will decide whether you need another sweater,” she said.
Sara died four years ago and I think I need one now.