“First Person: Dad's gift to Mom also a gift to four girls”

First Person: Dad's gift to Mom also a gift to four girls

Posted: 18 Sep 2010 03:57 AM PDT

First Person is a weekly forum for personal musings and reflections from readers.

My parents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary yesterday.

Anticipating the admirable milestone, my three sisters and I recently reflected on our many

memories of a supportive environment where valuable life lessons were cultivated.

One of the most important centered on choices - evaluating options, trying to make the

best decision and living with the consequences.

Long ago, Ralph and Nancy Zengen made a lifestyle choice to buy only what they could pay for at the time of purchase. In our house, debt was a four-letter word.

My parents, with four girls to raise, saw money in the bank as a foreign concept - something to dream about when all of us had left home.

In the meantime, money had to be set aside for necessities: clothes for the four of us, especially trend-setting Karen; braces for Dawn and Bonnie; car maintenance (especially for Heidi, our 1972 Plymouth Fury that withstood her share of dings, engine problems and fire-hydrant encounters); a house that would serve as the social scene in our teenage years; college tuition; weddings; and relocations (for Karen and me).

So, within that context, I share the story of a beautiful choice made in the fall of 1977.

As many people know, my mother owns a jewelry collection that puts Tiffany to shame.

There was a time, though, when she didn't have it.

Mom often spent free time browsing in jewelry stores. One day, she happened upon a stunning emerald-and-diamond ring. Several times during the next few weeks, she visited the jewelry store during her lunch hour to look at the ring. She

tortured herself further by actually trying it on and eventually dragged my dad to see the ring.

Dad humored her by going, then had a heart-to-heart with her about the prohibitive cost: They had too little in their savings account and too many other, more important expenses on the horizon.

He promised Mom, though, that one day he'd buy her that ring - or have one designed just like it or find a better one.

Although she understood, she was crushed.

Despite the disappointment, my mom continued to go to the jewelry store to look at the ring. One day, the ring was gone - a sign for my mom to move on.

I think she secretly hoped that my dad had bought the ring but understood that his practical side probably wouldn't have let him do so.

On Christmas morning, as was the tradition in our house, we sat around the tree in the living room and began opening gifts.

Mom had a big box to open from Dad. Inside were a beautiful black dress and black pumps - perfect for Mom to wear to work.

After everyone finished unwrapping gifts, we started to clean up.

"But wait," my dad said: "What is that gift on the tree branch inside the tree?"

I reached for the gift and read the tag: "To Nancy / Love, Santa."

As I handed the small wrapped box to my mom, I looked at my dad knowingly and saw tears in his eyes.

Amazingly, my mom took a long time to open the gift - as if she were afraid that it wouldn't be what she thought it was.

She wasn't disappointed.

No words were spoken in the room for several minutes. The only audible sounds were the soft sobs of my mom, my dad and the four of us.

My dad had had a choice to make that fall: He could stand firm on the necessities as he knew them or spend a little lavishly on someone who'd always put their daughters' financial needs before her own.

In choosing the ring, my dad ensured that my sisters and I grew up knowing how much our parents deeply love each other.

Lynn Thomas, 47, of Hilliard and her sisters toasted their parents with a trip to Hilton Head Island, S.C., and a dinner in their honor.

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