The unopened box
Awaits the reveal, the joy,
Time of touching heart.
My gift-giving style is Impulsive Giver, a person who cannot be trusted to keep a secret, to stash away gifts in advance (and remember where I put them). When I discover something magically specific for someone, I must give it to them immediately, both of us entwining our joy in this wondrous world filled with surprising gifts.
Over the years, there have been holidays where a loved one is gifted continually before the big day, because happy excitement must be shared right away. And, more than once, a gift is given days or weeks after the event because the hiding place was so devious, dastardly clever that I forgot where the gift was stashed. I’ve learned to write down the hiding places in my journal — and sometimes I even find the note in time.
Not everyone is like this — I am glad of it, too, because I like to give gifts on the holiday, the celebration day itself, bustling and sparkling with warmth. I also enjoy having things done early, avoiding panicked, pressured gift angst.
One of my family is a Happy Anticipator. For her, the box is wonder and pleasure enough. There is no immediate yanking off bow, ripping off paper. She can let the box sit for days, glancing at it and grinning with guesses about what might be outside — perfectly content to let the anticipation and guessing play a major role in her receiving.
I consider what that might be like, to be the person who anticipates, who can wrap her own beautiful gifts that are astounding, heartfelt, considerate ways of saying I love you and was thinking of you and here is something for you to enjoy.
Maybe I’ll try that some day. Right now, a friend will soon celebrate a big birthday and I know just the thing I would like to give her — and maybe part of the gift is that I show up way early and beg her to open it up right away because I can’t wait for us to laugh over it together.