Shopping for Christmas with my mom started in sadness, but became a treasured gift
No one loves online shopping more than me, but there’s definitely something to be said for the in-store experience. These “real” shopping trips seem especially significant when thinking back to Christmases past — pre-internet, pre-COVID-19 and before my mom died in spring 2020. My mother and I began what turned into a 25-year annual tradition on Dec. 18, 1992, the first anniversary of my father’s death. We were both looking for something to fill this sad anniversary and planned a full day including shopping, lunch and gift wrapping.
We made a well-matched shopping team. Both of us were focused and decisive — plus, we came equipped with comprehensive handwritten lists. For distraction, we were accompanied by my 2-year-old daughter. We started the morning at the nearby mall, quickly knocking off gifts for the adults on the list. After lunch and mall carousel rides for our youngest team member, we were off to our favorite local bookstore, followed by a stop at the big-box toy store for serious shopping. Thanks to strategic shopping cart routing and coat layering, we managed to keep secret the toys purchased for the 2-year-old and her 6-year-old sister (who was not allowed to skip first grade to accompany us).
By midafternoon, we were back home for toddler nap time and a flurry of Christmas present wrapping before my older daughter arrived home. As expected, the day had its sad moments, including seeing a nearly perfect present for my hard-to-buy-for dad. But we both deemed it an overall success.
Over the next few years, my mom and I kept our annual shopping date, and the event became one of anticipation and celebration. Eventually, we dropped our insistence on sticking to Dec. 18 and began picking any day in mid-December that worked for both of us. We’d talk about my dad each year as well as our previous Christmas excursions, remembering the challenges of buying presents with our original toddler shopper and later her younger sibling, born two years into our tradition. Our planned day was occasionally disrupted by Midwest weather, illness or a last-minute work conflict, but we always managed to reschedule and meet our holiday deadline.
As my mom reached her late 80s, the time spent shopping in actual stores decreased, and we began incorporating online shopping in our day. But my mother’s enthusiasm never dimmed even as her mobility and health declined. The last December shopping trip took place around four years ago, and included just a couple of stores, followed by lunch at a favorite restaurant. By the next December, our tradition had ended quietly without fanfare.
This month, I find myself thinking of our mother-daughter adventures more often. When I see my 2021 Christmas list, now more organized thanks to a computer document, I know my mom would be impressed. I feel the same when I drive by our favorite spots. The sprawling mall from our original shopping trip is now closed and bulldozed away, but our locally owned bookstore is amazingly still standing.
I stopped by the bookstore recently to pick up gifts for my grandkids and couldn’t help remembering the two of us searching the shelves for my kids’ favorites. While leaving the bookstore this December, I thought about how much I missed being able to ask my mom’s opinion on Christmas purchases and more. It brought home the importance of appreciating our rituals, including the standards — such as making Christmas cookies together — and the less traditional, smaller celebrations.