April 15, 2020:

When he flew to California for their wedding he brought a handful of small gifts. They're thoughtful and so very him. A guitar strap and pics from Merchant City Music in Glasgow; a Glasgow snow globe; a Scottish flag keychain; a book by Tom Waits. Objects representing his sense of who I was, and who he was. Symbolic communication, and, within the limitations of the language and his budget, dead accurate.

He was a forklift operator living in one of his city's subsidized public housing projects. He has no money for presents. Between them these gifts perhaps cost five quid and were almost certainly a hardship. They're sincere and touching, and are among the handful of gifts I've ever truly treasured.

The keychain's in my pocket. The snow globe's on my nightstand. The book is on my coffee table. The guitar stuff is in use.