Melvin

My mother-in-law, Clara, has given me wonderful gifts throughout the years, but my favorite is last year’s Christmas gift, a coffee mug with the name “Melvin” printed on it.

Clara typically eats at Cracker Barrel on Wednesdays and does her gift shopping there. She bought my husband a mug that has a Marines logo on it, which makes perfect sense because he is a retired vet; however, I don’t drink coffee and my name is not Melvin. I certainly don’t know many Melvins, so it’s possible that name has been discontinued and was in the closeout bin. Maybe she regifted it, but that would mean somebody else chose to give her a Melvin mug, which seems very unlikely.

Regardless of how I ended up with the Melvin mug, I know that even with the confusion of her Alzheimer’s, she still chose this particular gift for me. I never questioned her about it, because I didn’t want to bring attention to her memory loss or diminish her joy of giving. Every time I take a sip from Melvin, I smile.

Every Christmas that I am able to spend with Clara is a gift. I will always cherish my Melvin mug, knowing that, like every other gift I have received from her, it was given with love.