The best gift you can give your folks: You, alone

Let me guess. You’re chugging coffee and perusing the paper before you wade into the week-before-Christmas chaos. Only nine shopping days left!

What are you giving your parents this year?

They say they don’t want anything. But you’re so desperate you’re considering Chia Pets. The Clapper.

Hold on. I may be able to help.

First, some background. It was 10 years ago, in Trenton. Exit 7A off the Jersey Turnpike. I was there to visit my formerly chain-smoking mom who’d just finished her second or third round of chemo. And my health-conscious dad who was taking care of her.

It was an ordinary weekend. Yet, if I’d been able to peer into the future, I would have known it wasn’t. One year later, both of my parents would be gone. First the ruddy-cheeked jogger would drop dead of a heart attack. Four months later, his wife of 51 years would follow.

My mother was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer in 1996 and given three months to live. Her doctors were off by two years. After she got sick, I made weekly jaunts to Jersey. Six hours of nothing to look at each way.

Usually my whole family came along. Occasionally, I took just one of the kids. Only once did I go alone. This was that time. When I arrived, they were thrilled to see me in the way only your parents can be.

We didn’t do much, Mom was too weak. We sat around and talked. Sat around and watched TV. Sat around and played cards. On Saturday, we went out to dinner – at about 4:30 in the afternoon to avoid the crowds. Dad insisted on paying, of course.

We went to bed early. Got up early, too.

Uneventful, until my mother wandered into my old bedroom as I was packing to leave.

“I’m so glad you came alone,” she said.

“Daddy and I can’t remember the last time we had you all to ourselves.”

She quickly added that she loved my husband and adored the grandkids. But every once in a while – “you’ll understand when your kids leave home and get married” – they wished they could see their daughter all by herself.

Geez. Who knew?

On the drive home, I tried to remember how long it had been since I’d visited without kids, husband or boyfriend in tow. Fifteen years, I reckoned. Too long.

On that lone solo weekend, we were able to reminisce without interruption. We talked about my grandparents, crazy relatives, old neighbors and family camping trips without boring anyone. We told embarrassing stories on each other without worrying the wrong ears would hear.

For three days in 1997, we were the way we once were ...

Now, back to Christmas shopping.

If you’re lucky enough to have your parents this Christmas, there’s something you can give them that you won’t find at the mall.

Time. With you. And no one else.

It may be what they’ve been wishing for all along.

Kerry Dougherty, (757) 446-2306, kerry.dougherty@cox.net