Hubster and I racked our brains trying to come up with a suitable thank you gift for a doctor who provided the hubs with extraordinary care during a very challenging time. Running through the options, we considered a fruit basket, flowers – maybe just a thoughtfully crafted thank you note – and nothing seemed quite right. So, we continued our think, think, thinking.
And then, I remembered one of our conversations with the dear Doc in question. He went above and beyond to share his own experiences about health, nutrition and what works for him as he built a terrific, caring relationship with the hubs.
The Dr. extended himself in a way that was unexpected, impactful and unique, given that hubs had a team of ten doctors at one point. It’s hard to describe, but have you experienced the rush of overwhelming kindness when a medical professional drops their façade, revealing humanity and nothing else, at the most opportune time? It must feel like calculated risk-taking. Medical professionals need to maintain their own mental health and can be vulnerable and overloaded, too.
Amazingly, the dear Dr. did just that, consistently, for the hubster and still had the bandwidth to field the questions that I asked – both in the moment and endless follow up queries. Despite the infringement on his time, he never gave an indication of impatience. Quite the contrary, his potent sense of humor and self-deprecating stories were medicine of their own.
And so. Yesterday the hubs had a routine follow-up appointment and I planned to tag along, to say hello to the kind doctor who became an extension of the family. Not wanting to show up empty handed and dissatisfied with the ideas we’d brainstormed, I figured a healthy-ish version of a homemade goodie might do, but I didn’t want the presentation to be lacking. Okay, then – muffins. My go-to.
Enter Amazon. Ever helpful in a pinch. I found beautiful, scalloped muffin/cupcake boxes (see pic above) that were both food safe and available in my favorite kraft-paper rustic tone. All the better to coordinate with my beloved burlap ribbons and my favorite thank you notes – simple brown fold-overs that say “Thank You” but allow ample room for writing a from-the-heart message on the inside. Perfect!
So I made the muffins – pumpkin spice without the cream cheese frosting (recalling conversations with the dear Dr. about treats, in moderation) and they were a hit. Yes, it would’ve been easier (and no doubt cheaper) to buy goodies from the renowned local bakery, but I wanted to do just a little more and delivering the muffins on a disposable plate just wouldn’t do. This is where I drive others batty. I had a vision of what the presentation would look like, and I wasn’t satisfied until I could see it in reality.
Aesthetic ideals from a philosophical perspective are tightly wound inside me as priorities, I suppose because I’m annoyingly visual. Symmetry, asymmetry, balance, color, hue, texture – I cannot help but assess for aesthetic value. It mattered that the treats tasted good but the first look-see, that old adage that we ‘eat with our eyes first’ mattered just as much.
The point? To know me is to love me or tolerate me 😉, inclusive of my hard-wired notions about ‘perfect’ gifts that sweep me into a slightly obsessive gratitude aesthetic. Even though the ‘packaging’ might not matter one wit to the recipient, it matters to me, because it’s a reflection of me.
Thanks for reading! I’m grateful to you, too. If I could send a package of muffins, I surely would. Well-wrapped, of course.