I have this ongoing problem with my husband (and myself). My generosity is odd to him. I, in turn, think of him as selfish sometimes. This is a battle we fight around the holidays every year. Sometimes the problem spreads to everyday life. From October 14, 2006. The problem was apparent even then:
“I am truly starting to come out of my shell. I can feel this hermit being less crab everyday. This morning I woke up on the right side of the bed, the right side of my life. Good mood. Good day. Good deed indeed. I decided to bring some Maine blueberries to the family that runs the sugar shack High Hopes, in Worthington. They have been good to us for years and years. On impulse I wanted to return the gesture. I didn’t want to think about it and didn’t think about it…until my husband pointed out that they barely know us; they might think it (and me) “weird”. Suddenly, my berries looked a little less blue and a little more suspicious. Would they think I poisoned them? Them. See, I don’t even know their names! I faltered and stutterstepped and almost putting the berries back in the freezer. I am too weird for this. I am too weird for me.
Luckily, I regained courage and caring. My blueberries were well received. They prompted a conversation about Maine and Maine living. Did they chuck my gift after I was gone? Who knows. Hopefully, in the end they appreciated the gesture and that’s all that mattered.”
Every since we have moved away we no longer visit the sugar shack. We don’t see the family to whom I was once so generous. In the grand scheme of things, does it matter? Not really. Just thinking out loud.