A Grand Gift

I was making lists and delegating jobs to each day to prepare for the onslaught. Our youngest, Son Jim who lives and works in Tulsa, a scant 90 miles, rarely comes to see us. He called yesterday morning to tell us he was on his way down. When I asked how soon, he said he was getting off the turnpike--maybe 15 minutes. It seems Jim decided he was more agile on the attic steps and more mechanically gifted than his dad at setting up outside lights. The upshot was, he turned my three-day plan into a one-day maximum effort. He drove off tonight with the leftover homemade pizza and three-quarters of a coconut pie, food being the sum total of his earnings. And, of course, hugs and heartfelt thanks and smiles from his mother and dad. I'll still be cooking and wrapping, but less frantically, with more time for remembering.