By Alex Ness
Over on Twitter a very active twitter friend asked an open question, 'What is the greatest gift you've ever been given?'. My answer was a white Matchbox car sent by my dad. But that was a short form answer. The following is a presentation of the mind explaining the more in depth answer... (Melisa Quigley, is a wonderfully supportive Twitter friend and author.)
My Auntie Ruthie was a wonderful lady. She was childless, and a divorcee, but she loved her nieces and nephews like they were her own. When she came home to Minnesota to see family, (upon graduating high school, she immediately left Minnesota, to move to California, where she pursued the American dream), she'd spoil us, and make the kids laugh. She gave us nicknames according to our supposed traits. I ate and loved pickles, so I was Picklehead. I remember the rest of the names but can't remember who was what, so I'll leave it at that. And I adored my Auntie Ruthie. She was very funny, very smart and kind.
Once when we were going to a business near our home she took a wrong turn and ended up on a test track for cars, that was an oval with crossing roads and such. She had an enormous gold Cadillac, and my brother and I had no idea what was to come, but it still makes me laugh. She was going to just turn around and go to the business, but she slowed down, said, hey boys, how about this, and she went onto the track and began following the curves, at a fairly high rate of speed. My brother and I were no older than 10 years old, (he was 2 years older than me), and we began to giggle, followed by open choruses of laughter and we could barely breathe at the end from the event.
My Auntie Ruthie was special to me for other reasons too. She was honest but also kind, so her advice in life was well received. I nicknamed her AR, for short, and she referred to be as AN. One day, when I was coming home from first grade, for lunch, I saw a different car parked in front of my home. I thought about who it might be. It was my Grandma, AR and my cousin Karlene, which was great, and I didn't have to go back to finish school that day. It is part of the beautiful tapestry of memories I have of my auntie.
For Christmas in 1969 we had Christmas morning at my Grandpa and Grandma Wells home. I received the spacemen and the Carry Case Castle from AR. I loved knights and Robin Hood, and King Arthur since I can remember existing, and the castle was well used, and the spacemen/aliens were wonderful gifts, because they fed my mind with imagination. Those areas of interest provided fuel for many of my current works.
For my brother's July birthday perhaps age 9 for him, my dad had sent a package. He was alone, and working and living at our home 200 miles away. My mom worked for a few weeks in Minneapolis, so it was a way to give my dad a break from the kids, perhaps crack a beer or two... Anyhow, in the package for my brother, once opened, revealed that there was a small package for me, from my dad. It wasn't my birthday, so what my dad was doing was giving me something so I wouldn't feel left out. He wasn't the most kind person, and he and I were not a good match, but, I know he loved me. And his sending of this, to remind me that he was thinking of me, was a treasured memory. He had sent a Matchbox car, a Ford GT with racing stripes. I still have that car. And I want my grandchildren to play with it. The reason I mention these gifts isn't that they are evidence that I was wealthy or pampered, under nourished, or maltreated. The memories of gifts are a way to revel in our past, embrace the moment and remember the events that helped make us who we are in the present. I'm not here to poop on my dad, I am just trying to explain the experience with honesty. He hadn't a father in his life, during the depression after he was 7 years old. During much of how he treated me, and my brother differently than me, he was learning to parent as he was doing it.
In the end he regretted much of how he had treated me. Three weeks before he had passed I drove from Fargo, ND to Wisconsin Rapids, WI where he lived, to celebrate his last birthday. I'd sent out numerous sports cards to various players and coaches to ask if they'd sign them for my father. One of my father's favorite players on his very favorite team was Bill Boom Boom Brown of the Minnesota Vikings. He'd written in purple pen, To Don Ness, Thanks for being my fan. Bill "Boom Boom" Brown. I placed the card in a Lucite block. Shortly after my dad passed I received cards from Mike Ditka and Bill Parcels, who my dad truly appreciated. Why am I mentioning the sports cards? My dad died in May after I saw him in April. Before I left to go home, he had hugged me before I was to leave, and he asked for my forgiveness for the things he'd done or not done. He said however badly I acted, I always loved you. I of course said I forgive you. He refused to let go of the hug, and cried, weeping actually, and in this moment he freed me from a future of life's memories of bad times. He had allowed me to live, and my future could be happy.
But that wasn't all. Starting in 1994 my wife and I went through a nightmare experience when trying to add to our family. She'd two ectopic pregnancies, both nearly killing her. Losing those children, and later two more was extremely traumatic. At the hospital after the second ectopic event we were told she couldn't have children through natural means, any longer. My wife was a child from a family of five children. My parents adopted my brother and I, as they couldn't have children through natural means, themselves. I wasn't of the mind we wouldn't have children, we could adopt. But, my wife desperately wanted to have children with our traits, our DNA. My father and mother came to visit after my wife had healed a bit physically, and they were at our home to give support. Something happened though that was the greatest gift I've ever received. In discussing what our future looked like for children, my wife mentioned fertility treatments and how very expensive they were. My father had spent his last years of life praying for and hoping for grandchildren. While you might think what my wife said was, "woe are we, we can't afford to have children", she was just being very direct about the costs and difficulties, my father said, "I want you both to know that Shirley (my mum) and I will pay for your treatments. We want you to have your children."
My dad never made more than 30K in a year of work. He worked hard but his path was difficult. And he had spent money on homes, college for me (partially, but still a lot was covered by him) and other family expenses. He might even have been considered cheap by people looking in from the outside. But he wasn't cheap. He knew how to save, having grown up during the Depression. He also believed he was going to die relatively soon. (He did, less than 9 months later). His plan wasn't getting to see a grandchild before he left this world, but instead, to offer a path for my wife's fulfillment of her deepest desire. My life was given a great gift because what my dad gave us, for the rest of our lives, was a child who is the light of my life. Because of my dad's heart being moved, the greatest gift I've ever received was having a son. Having a son was the greatest experience for me, and it came from a person who I'd burned in bitterness and regret about for most of my adult life prior to the moment. My son is my greatest happiness. My dad gave my wife happiness, and did so in the most amazing way, but I have to say even more, she was so ruined by the two ectopic pregnancies, I think we'd not have stayed married, she was so heartbroken life with me was just miserable. My dad giving her an avenue to have a child gave her happiness, gave my son life, gave me a happy wife, and taught me, that sometimes miracles happen. Sometimes gifts are fun, exciting, or new. But for me, my experience was that my greatest gift came from the heart of a man who didn't know how to express himself outside of anger. By doing what he did, he showed me that the greatest gift isn't wealth, or fun, or excitement, but an expression of love, in purest form.
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LASTLY
“The snow goose need not bathe to make itself white.
Neither need you do anything but be yourself.”
Lao Tzu
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