At times best gifts are ones not really just for you

Published 9:00 pm Monday, December 24, 2001

A red canoe.

You expected — what? That I’d say my best Christmas gift ever was a hug from a child? No.

I’m nice, but not selfless. And I’m not wholly of the notion that material things can’t bring happiness. Sure they can.

My canoe brought a boatload of happiness. It just took awhile, a few hundred paddle strokes or so, to know that.

But let’s back up.

It was nearly noon on Christmas in 1994 or ‘95, along in there. Wrappings and ribbons were strewn all over. The kids were contentedly trying out electronic games and sneaking sugar cookies.

My husband and I had exchanged hugs, kisses and the predictable kinds of presents we were always getting each other. He liked history books, I like biographies. He liked wool socks, I like fleece gloves. He liked any kind of coffee, I like tea.

We were sitting around the lit-up tree in a state of happy exhaustion that comes after the shopping is done, every gift is open and all that remains of the holidays is to relax. Anyway, it was time to put the turkey in the oven.

Oh, but the turkey had to wait. My family had one more surprise. The kids were in on my husband’s 16-foot secret because their brawn was required to help lift the thing off the car.

You’ve heard of re-gifting, in which recipients turn around and give unwanted presents to other people. We don’t do much re-gifting at my house, but we’re all guilty of another practice. We’ve been known to give the very things we want for ourselves.

Do you do that? At my most obvious, I gave my daughter a CD by the Irish band U2 knowing she’d forget all about it. Sure enough, within days I was able to snatch it back.

Anyway, that Christmas morning I was escorted into our soggy back yard where I was startled by a classic case of "he wanted it for himself, he got it for me."

Funny, I didn’t recall listing a red Old Town Discovery canoe in my note to Santa. Come to think of it, I hadn’t bothered writing to Santa at all. He was supposed to know what to bring — a juicy biography, some U2 or Van Morrison music, gold hoop earrings or a bottle of Chanel No. 5 if he felt especially generous.

A canoe? "Cool," I think I said, nearly speechless.

Actually it was freezing out there and raining. I was thankful for one thing — he didn’t want to try it out that Christmas Day.

Our first launch didn’t come until spring.

We spent a fast-moving afternoon on the Tolt River near Carnation. It was exhilarating, but a little scary with two young kids. My husband and I both had rusty canoeing skills from long-ago summers at our respective Boy Scout and Camp Fire camps. We learned on the Tolt we had lots to learn.

All that spring and summer we went paddling.

We neglected house, lawn and church in favor of Lake Roesiger, Cranberry Lake at Deception Pass and Lake Washington near the University of Washington Arboretum. On vacation, we canoed to islands on Priest Lake, Idaho and at Jackson and Jenny lakes in Grand Teton National Park, Wyo.

We kept it up every summer until my husband died in 1998.

I have few finer memories than of watching his back from the stern of an Old Town Discovery. Flat water in early morning was the best. We wouldn’t talk just to hear each dip of a paddle.

If you go to buy such a craft, you’ll find the Old Town literature describes my canoe as "dependable, stable, maneuverable and highly predictable when the waters are not."

Great qualities. Good in a canoe, better in a person. Know what, though? I’m awfully glad my husband wasn’t too predictable. I needed that red boat. I just didn’t know it.

My canoe is still in the back yard this Christmas, balanced on a couple sawhorses. The hull wears a thin coat of moss. I’ve been paddling since ‘98, but only on vacation in a rented kayak. My red canoe is ready for a trip, I think.

And listen, if someone has given you a canoe this Christmas — or any other puzzling present — don’t judge it, or them, too quickly.

It might mean that person wants a canoe. It might mean weekends are getting a bit dull. It might mean some combination of those conditions.

It definitely means you should go canoeing.