Ah, Christmas.........what to get whom, color, size, shopping.......it gets to be too much. When you're a knitter, planning has to take place months in advance.
My late father-in-law was always someone that took a lot of musing over what sort of present would be appropriate. Many years, I got some very strange looks, when his presents were opened. Like the year we gave him a hose. Yes, I said a hose. He owned a used car lot, and never could keep hoses in working order. They'd get run over, chewed by his dog, whatever, they were always ratty, never had an end to attach a sprayer. So, being a very practical person, what else could I give him? He had that hose until the day he closed his lot, then took it home to use.
When he started getting ill and could no longer work, I had a bigger challenge. What to do? My mind raced...... he wasn't a reader, we'd gotten him all the John Wayne movies he could watch, of course the infamous hose........what was left?
That Christmas morning, I admit, I was a little nervous over what I had chosen. Presents were passed around, and I waited with baited breath for him to tear open the pretty paper. Everyone stopped.....waited.....watched.....He was looking down at the sky blue afghan nestled in the wrapping. I was watching his face for his reaction. The tears came. He pulled that simple afghan out of the remaining paper, and hugged it to his chest. "No one has knitted me something since my Grandmother".
I'll always remember how he looked, sitting in his recliner that morning, covered from chest to foot, with his new Christmas afghan. And the larger than life hug I got.
Merry Christmas, Big Guy, and thanks for the memories