You never know how the outside world sees you and never is this more apparent than when you receive a gift.
Last Christmas my sister gave me a sweater. The sweater was multiple shades of maroon and swirly pink with a metallic pink thread woven into the background. It was a beautiful sweater. As I held it up against my torso, she lovingly stated that when she saw it, it looked just like me.
Huh. Just like me. Now every time I put it on, I can’t help but think, “what about this sweater screams ‘Cassina’?” Surely not the metallic pink thread? Or is it the color? Maroon and pink swirls and stripes? The whole time I wear it, I think about this sweater that looks just like me.
Fast forward to this year’s Christmas morning. Early in the morning, by the light of the Christmas tree lights, I opened a gift from my husband, Zach. Beneath the kitty cat wrapping paper and bubble wrap was a small porcelain statue of a pure white geisha. I wrinkled up my nose and looked at him curiously. He smiled at me and asked if I liked it.
Of course I liked it but why a geisha and why me? Zach, looking a little hurt, said “because it reminded me of you.” I laughed and then said, “Why?” Zach then said the most perplexing statement ever: “It reminded me of you because it’s delicate like you.”
I’m sure everyone reading this who knows me even remotely would not use the word delicate to describe me. I even told my aunt and mother the geisha story, and when I told them about Zach calling me delicate they laughed. I don’t think in all of my 49 years there has been a single soul living or dead that has referred to me as delicate, but Zach insists.
After I had a good laugh, I thought of all the things I have been called throughout the years: loud, obnoxious, big-mouthed (goes with loud) sarcastic, emotional, hot tempered, know-it-all and probably a few hundred other things behind my back. One thing for sure I know without a doubt, the only person to ever call me delicate is Zach.
Later that day I decided to press the issue and ask Zach why he thought of me as delicate. His response was simple, “I called you delicate because of your heart. You have a fragile, big heart.”
It’s ok to swoon. I did. There you have it. Beneath my sarcastic, big-mouthed exterior, I have a big fragile heart and Zach sees it every day. So now, when I look at that small white porcelain statue, I too can be reminded of how he sees me and why I married him.
Get you a Zach in whatever form you can, and a sister that sees maroon and pink and thinks of you. Don’t waste your time on anything else.
Happy New Year and thanks for all the foot-related advice. My readers are the best. xo
Cassina Farley can be contacted at cassinaandzachfarley@msn.com