PaperBack Writer posted a list of things she doesn’t want for Christmas, then asked if there was anything we didn’t want.  I answered this one, then decided I’d re-post it here, because, well, I mean it.  Here’s what I said:

Pretty much anything.  I’m a gift-buyers nightmare, because if I want it, I buy it.  If I can’t buy it, chances are you (not you, personally, you understand, the proverbial gift-buyer you) can’t either.

Several times throughout the year, send me a letter telling me how things are going in your life.  Or, barring that, do it in an email.  Just be real, ok?  I’d love to hear about you and your family — not the forwarded chain email that tells me how much I mean to you and the rest of your address book you sent it to.  But you and your day-to-day boringness in life.  It’s interesting to me, because it’s about you.  And we’re supposed to be friends or family.  Tell me friend or family stuff.  That’s all I want.  For the price of a couple of stamps a year or a few heart-felt emails, I’d be thrilled.

And, really, that sums it up.  If you’re friend or family, all I want for Christmas or throughout the year from you is for you to share your life with me.  I have all the things I want or need — too many, in fact.

It’s people I don’t interact with well — primarily because I don’t want to intrude on your life.  I don’t want to fix things for you.  I don’t want to solve your problems with your kids, but I do care that you have those problems.  (I didn’t have kids because I didn’t want to have to worry about solving those problems, but you had kids, so you, obviously, decided at some point that you were willing to accept those problems.)  I am interested, and I do care.  Sometimes, not too often, but sometimes, I can help.