December Prompt

Giving My Dad a Gift Maybe Wasn’t the Best Idea

A lesson in learning how to live without expectations

In early November, I was mindlessly scrolling Instagram when I came across an ad for a shoe sale at Allbirds. Since the Meta Gods love tracking my every web-browsing move, it was only a matter of time before I fell into their trap, and dammit, it worked.

Allbirds are my favorite shoe brand — so much so that I own six pairs. Seeing the words “Allbirds” and “sale” together is my kryptonite.

I also share this affinity for Allbirds with my dad. I bought him a pair last June for his birthday, and they’ve remained a staple on his feet ever since.

After I clicked on the ad, I was redirected to their site, where I saw a pair of Wool Flyer Mizzles on sale for $51 — a $79 savings, and I saw a pair of Tree Flyers for my dad on sale for $48 — a $82 savings. Two pairs of Allbirds for $99 was a sweet deal; saving $161 for them was even better.

I had no reason to get my dad the shoes other than I thought he would enjoy them, and I looked forward to surprising him. After all, he never spends money on himself.

I’ve always felt that just because gifts are more special than those received on birthdays or holidays, as they are unexpected, and the only reason to give them is to show someone how much you care about them.

Whether the gift is big or small, it authentically expresses to the recipient that you were thinking about them even when they weren’t physically with you, and to me, that’s genuine love.

When I gave my dad his shoes, he didn’t show much emotion. He’s always been stoic, so figuring out if he’s happy has been a challenge. That part of him has frustrated me for as long as I can remember. Men from his generation were taught never to show emotion; he took that way too literally for my liking.

I asked him to try on the shoes, but he didn’t and said he would later. That bummed me out, and the excitement and anticipation I had to give them to him had faded. It brought back feelings of being dismissed, like when I was a kid and told to “go to my room” or “be quiet.”

I always assumed it was gift-receiving 101 etiquette that you try on a present when someone gets you one, whether you like it or not. Apparently, he didn’t share that sentiment.

After I gave him his gift, we left to attend a football game. On the way out, he kept the shoes in the box and put them on the back seat of his truck.

A few weeks later, on Thanksgiving, I was sitting next to him on the couch, watching the Lions-Packers game. I asked him if he liked the new pair of Allbirds, and he said he still hadn’t tried them on yet. I couldn’t believe it. Hearing that sent me from bummed to hurt.

“You know I can’t wear them because your mother will get mad,” he said.

“Dad, are you serious? You really won’t wear them because you think mom will get mad over a pair of shoes? That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” I replied.

“I’m just trying to keep the peace. You know how she is,” he said.

How could I have felt any other way than extremely disappointed?

It was bad enough that my dad refused to visit me at my home without my mother accompanying him; now, I couldn’t even buy him a gift to express my genuine love because he feared she would get upset.

There I was, sitting next to him on the couch, when I came to the realization of a new possibility that I may have overlooked.

Could it be that my dad, who I always thought was the most selfless guy, was just as selfish as my mother?

He made the conscious decision that it was more important to “keep the peace” between him and my mom than it was to accept my gift. If that isn’t selfish, then I don’t know what is.

As let down as I was, I felt bad for him. It’s sad that after forty-five years of marriage, he felt that a $48 dollar pair of shoes carried the potential to cause a major fight in this marriage.

As I’ve aged, I’ve noticed that the more I’ve matured and grown in my mindfulness practice, the more dysfunction I see in my family. The cracks are getting wider. Perhaps my dad has always been this way, and I’m only aware of it since my rose-colored glasses have been removed.

I moved back to my hometown four years ago with the hope of reconnecting with my parents and family; however, all it seems that I’ve witnessed and experienced is an elevated level of dysfunction and unfulfilled expectations.

I’ve realized that I was a completely different person when I left in 2005 than I am today, but my family still shares the same broken patterns today as they did when I left.

Even though meditation has taught me that acceptance is the way to peace, it has been my practice’s most difficult aspect. True acceptance removes expectations. I understand this, but it’s hard, and I’m a work in progress.

One positive from this is that I feel even more grateful for my wife, our marriage, and our respect for each other.

She would not be upset if someone gave me an unexpected gift like my mother would be. Our marriage is the exact opposite of my parents, and I love and appreciate her more for it.

As I move forward, I’m learning to accept my parents for who they are and not who I want them to be, and if I give them gifts, it has to be without expectations.

I’ll leave the just-because gifts for my wife. I know she’ll appreciate them, but before I do, I better delete my browsing history before Instagram gets me again.