Christmas Stories About my Father.

 I want to share a Christmas story about my Father that makes me happy. It's going to be a bit backwards. If I told it forwards, I would give away the ending. 

I think it was 2004. Dan and I had bought a house and what better way to spend Christmas than to host family at our home?  

I can go on and on about the fun we had enjoying Christmas in a new house, but this is a blog, not a novella. 

There was a gift for me from my parents, big ugly, wobbly looking thing sitting under the tree. It was only unusual because my mother prided herself on beautifully wrapped gifts. This one looked particularly difficult to wrap, like Mom had to wrestle it into submission first. I certainly didn't judge...but it made me super curious. What was this thing that Mom had such difficulty wrapping? 

We made happy pleasantries and ate dinner, settling in for gift opening and drinks. I'm a bit of a masochist when it comes to unwrapping my presents. If I get a sense that I know what my gifts are, even if I know I'll love it, I open those first. If there is something that I simply can't figure out, I save it for last. I'll even wait until everyone else is done. I like to savor the mystery and torture myself with anticipation. All I knew about the unbalanced behemoth was that it was heavy. (Squeals of unknowing joy.) 

I tore the Christmas paper off and discovered that Mom had butchered two Tide detergent boxes and slapped them together with duct tape. A LOT of duct tape. I noticed my father from the corner of my eye. He looked antsy, hopping a bit from his spot on the couch, grinning like a purple cat. 

It was so bound up, I had to get up and grab a knife. I stabbed and sawed my way through to find....A black plastic cocoon. "So weird!" Dad was stifling his giggles. 

The big black cocoon had a handle and fasteners on the side. Ooh, a carrying case of some kind. So I opened it and found....

A Navigator Saw. 

I looked up at my father, who could no longer contain himself. "I liked mine so much, I thought you might want one of your own. You know, with you being a homeowner and all." He beamed with pride, and I jumped up to strangle him lovingly. 

I was delighted. "Thank you, Daddy!" What a great, grown up gift he chose for me! And he gave the sharp tool to ME and not the man of the house. For some reason, that just made it that much cooler. 

Two Christmases earlier, I had given him a Navigator Saw, and I remember his reaction well. I was sitting next to him when he opened it. He didn't say anything for what felt like a whole minute. I thought he was confused or maybe disappointed. 

"See Dad?" I said, "It has multiple, replaceable blades, and can be used in two different positions..." 

He slowly turned towards me and said, "Did you know these things can cut through pipe?"

"Um, yeah, I did." I said. "It was kind of the selling point." He put me in an affectionate headlock, and gushed about how he'd thought about buying one but had forgotten about it. 

It was one of his favorite Christmas gifts. Looking back, I think it was one of the most thoughtful gifts I'd given him--something he could really use in his work and in his own home, and that was definitely the point. 

Being a homeowner allowed me to see what my father needed. He didn't need a new shirt or statues of eagles and wolves. I considered buying one for myself, but my father was able to see that too. 

I still have mine. Yes, we used it on PC pipes. It's not as fabulous as I thought it was, because we burned through two blades doing it. I tried to find one for my friend to give to her husband, but no one knew of it. When my father died, I wanted to give it to my Uncle Duane. We found the saw, only to discover that the mechanism that locks the blades into position was broken. 

Maybe it wasn't the awesome tool I believed that it was. But it created good memories that will stick with me for the rest of my life. When it comes to Christmas memories, this is one of my favorites.  

And here is another...It's about this photo, and the odd look on my father's face. 

I think I was twelve when Dad got a new camera for Christmas. Dad liked to take photos of cool looking airplanes and he enjoyed taking pictures from the air, but he didn't have a decent camera. So Mom bought him one, with film. 

I was sitting on the floor, playing with it, and it understandably made him nervous. 

"What are you doing, Donna?"

"Nothing, "I said.  "Just checking out your new camera."

"Do you...Know how to use it?"

"No. How do you take a picture?" I asked innocently. 

"It's easy. See that button right there?" He pointed over my shoulder to the big button on the top right. "You point the camera, and press that button." 

"Oh...You mean...like THIS?" I spun to my left and click. 

I guess I wasn't very subtle, because that's the photo I got of him. I think he told me he knew I was going to do that. When we got the film back, it was obvious. I think it turned out pretty good, and I'm glad we still have it. 

Thanks for the great memories, Dad. This picture always makes me smile.