it doesn’t mean I don’t love you

Here’s a riddle:

What’s this a picture of?

a) a present I just got from a close friend

b) a present I just bought for a family member

c) a present I bought 4 weeks ago for a cute little baby girl who just turned one and whose birthday party we had to miss but whose gift I should have sent via mail the next day – but instead it sat in my car for weeks, reminding me of how I don’t have my life together.

d) stop judging me!

Did you guess the right answer? Do you think less of me? Don’t hate me. It doesn’t mean I don’t love you if I don’t send you the gift – it just means I’m a spaz.

Moving on.  Why should this present be any different from the unsent thank you notes, forgotten housewarming cards, and of course – the left behind mommy-loves-you letters to camp. None of those things get out alive.

I have the best intentions – and the worst follow-through.  We have so many people in our lives that can get a birthday card to us the day of – THE DAY OF. That’s talented. I have no such talent. I will call you (except that one year I forgot both my best friend and my sister’s birthdays) –  and I’ll eventually take you out to a very nice dinner or drinks or something – but it’ll take a while.

A long, uncomfortable, guilt-ridden while.


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