I flew to Chicago last weekend to attend my nephew’s high school graduation. My sister–in-law, Sue, greeted me at O’Hare and drove me to my hotel. As I walked into my room I noticed a wicker picnic basket on the table. I saw a family-sized bag of Lay’s potato chips peeking out one side. Inside the basket I also found a bottle of wine, a corkscrew opener, wine glasses, two jars of nuts—and the real surprise—her great grandmother’s teacup and saucer.
Here is the significance of the items:
- I am addicted to Lay’s potato chips. Years ago Frito Lays tag line was, “Bet you can’t eat just one.” I assume they meant just one bag.
- I consider pinot noir to be nectar of the gods and believe that the world would be at peace if everyone on the planet sat down at 8 pm and drank a glass.
- I am a snob about drinking from anything but nice wine glasses.
- Nuts are candy to me.
- When I stay at her house, Sue always serves me tea from the exquisitely beautiful, preciously fine teacups that are at least 100 years old. Yes, the rumors are true; there is growing evidence that I was indeed a queen in a former life.
So here I was in my very confortable Holiday Inn Express (with at least two high school soccer teams in residence,) and I was having a Ritz Carlton experience thanks to her thoughtfulness. By the end of the weekend the potato chips, nuts, wine and teacups had worked their magic.
But my experience went much deeper that the comfort these items provided. I was reminded how much humans crave being KNOWN.
To delight me this much Sue had to know me intimately – to honor my quirks. She remembered the look on my face from long ago when I first sipped tea from that floral cup, that I think drinking from a plastic cup is like pouring cherry Kool-Aid into fine wine, and that if I ever get the chance to have a “Last Meal” I will just order a big bag of Lay’s potato chips.
I felt seen, and not only un-judged for my idiosyncrasies but embraced. Sue could have given me a basket of exotic goodies that I had never experienced before, offering new taste treats to delight me. But what she did was made it clear that she and I are connected and she cared enough to tell me in such a clever way.
It seems to me that in a world of long distance e-learning, thousands of online “friends” and access to trillions of items to purchase that we all still need that sense of intimate belonging to others…
And that it is still possible for little things to matter profoundly.
It’s something to think about.
Mary LoVerde 