The Meaning of a Gift

He walked the roads for months, picking up aluminum cans. I did not realize at the time that he didn't have the extra money to buy a bike for me. I just accepted it as the way he chose to make money. I don't know how much he made when he cashed the cans in at the scrapyard, and I don't know how much he paid for my bike.

I remember coming home from school and being surprised to see a new bike sitting in the yard. Papaw's happiness was better than the gift he gave me.

He had picked the bike out himself. It was bright pink, with large handlebars and silver streamers hanging from them. It had a banana seat, a silver bar across the back, and silver lettering painted over the pink frame. It was all girly.

He worked the evening shift at Pepsi Cola. When he came home at night and found out I was sick, he would get back in the car and head to Kroger for Sprite, soup, Popsicles, and medicine. He always made sure I had everything I needed, and somehow found a way to get the things I wanted, too.

Being born in the 1930s, he didn't understand much about new technology. When I asked for a CD player, he surprised me with a double cassette stereo instead. I didn't want to disappoint him or ruin his joy in giving me the gift. I smiled and thanked him, knowing that the gift itself wasn't what mattered. It was the love behind it.

This continued after I was grown and had children of my own. When I started collecting cast iron, he picked up every nice piece he found. Once, I came home from town to find the glider on the front porch loaded down with cast iron. Papaw had come by with gifts while I was gone.

Among the skillets he brought was his mother's unmarked Wagner griddle.

Other than a few lines written in a card, I was never able to hold my emotions in check long enough to sit down and tell him how much he meant to me. Every time I tried, the tears would flow.

I saw and felt his love for me in all those moments. I missed the chance to speak clearly and tell him how much I appreciated him, but even the word “appreciate” doesn't feel strong enough to describe what I feel.