Pat Taub
GUEST POST by JANET WEIL
Like probably everyone reading this, I have been flooded with catalogs lately. After my father-in-law died, I handled his mail, including many catalogs as he enjoyed this kind of shopping for family gifts, and I started the mail order madness. Now I’m struggling to get off their lists. That made me think about what gifts could mean, and how to spend time and money for the holidays.
The author in holiday catalog overload
The gifts that have meant the most to me, over the years, are those that show the giver remembered something specific and valuable to me.
The lovely journal book a friend gave me because we met over 40 years ago in a journal-writing class. The portrait of my great-aunt, a model for soap ads, that my mother passed on to me; it now graces my laundry room.
The author’s great-aunt, a treasured family portrait
The earrings from my son, a nod to my love of figure skating. Each present is a real presence – a reminder that the gift-givers put thought and memories into what they chose. I cherish them.
This year, though I did buy clothes and a few household items as practical gifts, I am also giving “mementos and memories” so that experiences, not just objects, are the focus. For a cousin who never knew our grandparents because they died before she was born, I will give a Blue Willow pattern plate that came from their table, with a family story. 
For my husband, who nags me to get back into writing poetry, I will handwrite a poem on a card. For my son, I will dig out an old frame from a box in the garage and fill it with a photo I took of him, in rather formal black and white instead of the usual color.
Janet’s gift to her son, her photo of him
For a friend I’ve lost touch with, who loves the Beatles, I’ll be mailing her a copy of a book I’ve enjoyed this year – “150 Glimpses of the Beatles” by Craig Brown.
I’m feeling a lift to my spirits just thinking about this. And I’ll try not to have expectations about how they are received… but I’m hopeful they will mean something. A long life means many things, practical or sentimental, materially valuable or thrift-store cheap, have come into my possession. A long life also means many memories. Sharing mementos and memories gives them depth, even a sort of new life.
The winter holidays, Christmas and to a lesser extent Hanukah, can be wonderful times of giving and receiving – or they can be a consumerist nightmare, an additional stress and source of resentment.
This year I’m dumping the catalogs and advertising inserts, cutting down my spending and driving, and trying to enjoy the approach of the Dark Time – the Winter Solstice and its ancient fears of scarcity and cold, which lie under all the gift-giving.
