I got a bag of this stuff once for Christmas. It was given to me by my dear husband before we were married. It is an humiliating experience to get coal from a boyfriend. It came in a box with "He knows if you've been bad or good so be good for goodness sake!" written on the top. Before we tied the knot, we spent a lot of time apart from each other. First David went on a mission, then six months after he returned, I went on a mission. We have a couple boxes full of letters to prove our devotion to each other. What led to the gift of coal happened about six months before I came home from my mission. I was living in Sucre, Bolivia. This is a beautiful old white Spanish city. While living there, I noticed that letters from Dave became sparse. When they did come, they seemed empty. Something was up. My family got to call me on Mother's Day, as is tradition, and Dave was there at my house to talk to me. On the phone he sounded distant. I starting digging relentlessly until I had pulled from him that he was seeing someone. Oh. That would explain it.
I decided that I needed to focus on my last six months so for the first time in the whole time that I had known David (about 5 years) I stopped writing him. Stopped completely. I don't know how I did it. I loved getting his letters and I loved writing them but I simply stopped.
When I got home from Bolivia, just before Christmas in 1998, I started to feel lonesome because all my friends were out of town for the holidays. I had become really close to Dave's siblings over the years and decided to call his house while he was at work and talk to his sister. David answered the phone. He was home sick from work. It was a little awkward to finally talk since I had inflicted six months of literary silence. He didn't even come to the airport when I got home...or maybe I hadn't invited him. He said if I was bored I could tag along with him while he went Christmas shopping. I was bored so I did. That started our hanging out again.
He gave me the bag of coal the next week for Christmas. At first I felt like crying when I opened it, but to show his mercy, underneath the coal was Ophelia by Natalie Merchant that I had seen and wanted while I went shopping with him. Who ever thought up giving coal to people for Christmas? It is a dirty trick I hope never to endure again.
4 comments:
That is a great story. Hopefully he has gotten over his hurt feeling and his gift giving is no longer passive aggressive. :)
I'm not sure who thought us the coal idea. I would think at one point that a lump of coal would be a valuable commodity. At least it serves a purpose. Much better than Homer buying Marge a bowling ball.
COAL???????????? C'mon David!!! Apparently, it seems you still need to make up for it! How about some diamonds or pearls for Kaerlig this Christmas!! She deserves it!
OH MY! I laughed right out loud when I read this post. Then I wished Dear David was standing next to me so I could kick him in the rear.
My mama would frequently threaten to give us coal or rocks in our Christmas socks. And almost every year one or two of us who were being particularly cranky would get a little bag of black coal-shaped gum in the bottom of our stocking. That was our little clue to shape up. *wink*
As kids, we would often, or maybe we just did it a couple times, steel coal from the BBQ and put it in each other stockings. I was always giddy to see my brother pull out of his sock first an orange, his box of cereal, his candy cane, his coal! I think its that old fashion john alan sense of humor that causes such things.
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