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  • Writer's pictureEdie Montreux

The Gift of Presence


I’m not good with gifts. My bestie can tell you many, many stories about me fighting him. I think I’ve pissed him off to the point where he no longer attempts to send me anything. Meanwhile, I send him a gift card every year because I can. I know that also pisses him off because I don’t give him the chance to object. Being my friend is hard work, and often frustrating.

This year, I’m doing my best to give the gift of presence, rather than presents. I want to be there for the big events in my family members’ lives. I want to offer my services when they need help. I want to give an experience that they’ll remember long after the trinket I would have given is trashed.

I need to remember the benefits when my fear of travel sets in. It’s hard for me to leave my house, let alone drive four hours to meet my writing partner, or fly seven hours to see my bestie. The fear is overwhelming sometimes, but the experience once I get there is more precious than any gift.

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