My mom was neither a spender nor a shopper. She loved simple (and inexpensive) things—like picnics, car trips, and being home. Her favorite gift was the gift of time. And when she bought something, for herself (rarely) or for others (more often), so much thought went into it and so much time.
One of her favorite things to do was to take day-or-two trips with her husband, my bonus dad. They’d drive to cute, not too far away towns—like Galena, Traverse City, Milwaukee—and they’d do things, mostly free things. They’d walk shores and streets. They’d go in shops.
I cannot emphasize this enough: there was nothing haphazard about my mom. She might visit a store 3 or 4 times before making an $11 purchase. Or, she might look at every item in the store before buying a $5 item. To be honest, it sometimes frustrated me. I’m sorry to say that sometimes I’d say: “It’s just $5!”
This notepad? It’s a $5 item—a $5 item that my mom gave me early in January of 2013. I don’t know the story behind its purchase, but I know it was purchased in Holland, Michigan. I’m quite certain a lot of thought went into it. She knew I would love and appreciate it. I did. She knew I loved adorably detailed paper products. She knew I took notes. She knew that sometimes it’s really, really hard for me to listen to my heart. (Isn’t it so much easier to listen to all of the loud and often critical voices that surround?)
I miss my mom. I miss the mom who knew me, who paid attention. I miss the time she took with everything.
This little notepad was the last gift my mom gave me before she died. It was in my purse when she died. It stayed in my purse, unused for 4 years; I couldn’t bear to open it, to see her carefully scripted handwriting in her note to me on the first page. Finally, I started using it just a few weeks ago. I read the words she wrote to me and then I take notes.
In her honor, I did the only thing that made sense to me. In my next Natural Life order, I ordered these exact, sweet little pads, and other varieties, for you. Why not help others take good notes?
Some customers move quickly, in a hurry or on a specific mission. That's how I shop.
Sometimes, customers wander slowly, on a different kind of mission. They touch and open and look. They read every word. They turn items around and around in their hands. They hold things up to their faces and ears and the light. They lean things against walls. They look. I invite that. I love that. Sometimes, these customers will say: “I’m sorry. I’m so slow. I’ll come back; I have to think about it.” Or they’ll say: “I’m just not sure yet. I can’t decide.” I always say and I always mean: “Please. Take your time. All good things take time. You’ll know when you know. Meanwhile, you are welcome here, always."
When your heart speaks, take good notes. :)