A Gift Most Precious

Sometimes I'm slow on the uptake. Sometimes I just want to let things sink in. Sometimes I'm a lout and write about stuff that I think people will like or that I just have to get out. Sometimes I'm not always conscious of people's feelings.

She visits so rarely and yet she was able to find time for me. We found time for each other. I chased into the hinterlands of Westchester County for a dinner and a few hours with her. As always it was wonderful.

But She-Who-Visits brought me the sweetest gift. She hauled it all the way from her island paradise. She dragged a shoebox thousands of miles. Inside were delicate plastic moldings of her feet. She'd had custom orthotics made and in order to do that they take a thin plastic cast of your feet. Her feet. Feet I just absolutely adore.

I should have written about them earlier, but getting my brains fucked out and Hurricane Irene seemed way cooler than her incredibly thoughtful gift. I'm a lout. I should have written about this gift most precious earlier.

But I didn't. She hasn't called in awhile. Way longer than is normal. She's mad at me, huh? I'm actually only guessing that she read the blog and is upset. The perils of being semi-public. I did ask her if it was okay to play and she graciously said yes.

I miss her calls. I got her an iPhone for my birthday. Our joke...she gets a gift on my birthday.

Trouble is, her gift was way better, more thoughtful, and she dragged it thousands of miles just to give me, because she knows I love her feet.

I'm a lout...