The Lanyard

What is a lanyard anyway?

I wasn't sure myself, so I looked it up.

The lanyard thing all started when I was searching for radio stations as I drove a 16-foot moving truck to Columbus. My brother Zack, who was following me in my car, had just called to tell me to tune into a radio station because he thought that the DJ's voice would be of interest to me. But I couldn't find the station he recommended, and instead, I stumbled upon the NPR program "A Prairie Home Companion," which I love. And on that show they replayed an earlier taping when the poet Billy Collins read his wonderful poem called "the Lanyard."

I had been driving along trying to think of something that I could do for my mother who had twice now put up with me moving back home as an adult. Once at the age of 28, and again last year. I wanted to think of something special to give her to show her my appreciation for all that she's done for me. Something special and also free, since as usual I was beyond broke. But I couldn't think of anything good enough.

Until I heard the lanyard poem. And then I realized the answer was easy -- I'd just make her a lanyard and present it to her with a copy of the poem.

But I didn't know what a lanyard was. I remember making one in camp, just like Billy Collins did as a child. But I couldn't remember what it was exactly.

So I googled it! And there it was -- how to make a lanyard.

I spent hours working on the perfect lanyard for Mom. But it wasn't as easy as I had remembered. It took me a long time just to figure out what the directions meant. And then I got it all tangled and cockeyed. I didn't know what was wrong with it, just that it didn't look right. Finally, on lanyard number three, I got the hang of it. But I didn't like the colors I had chosen. So I tried again.

It was two days before I was leaving for Ohio, so I was pressed for time. But it was the weekend, so Mom was home. I had to get the lanyard made without her knowing what I was doing. So I went outside to work on my lanyard. The perfect gift.

Several minutes later, Mom appeared behind me. I don't know how she did it without me knowing it. I guess I was just really involved in my lanyard making. Anyway, there she was. "You're making a lanyard!" she exclaimed, full of excitement.

"Um, yep," I answered.

Caught! Surprise ruined!

But no. Wait. She was gone again. She saw that I was making a lanyard, and that was enough information for her. Many people would have asked why. But not my mom.

Then, before I was able to present her with the lanyard (which turned out great, by the way), Mom read my blog. And if you've been reading my blog, you know that I make reference to giving my mom a lanyard and link it to the poem. But Mom had been so busy, I never thought she'd read it before I had a chance to give it to her.

But yesterday, my last day at Mom's, I walked into the living room to find her wiping tears from her eyes.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"You know that 'The Lanyard' is my favorite poem, right?" she said.

I did not know that.

"Are you reading my blog?" I asked.

She was.

"Hang on a minute," I said to her and quickly fetched for her the lanyard I had made as a way of thanking her for all she's done for me.

She loved it. She was more touched than I would have thought possible considering I'd just handed her a long strip of plastic yarn tied into knots.

"You know that I used to love to make lanyards, right?" she said.

I did not know that.

"I used to make them all the time and give them to my mother," she went on. "I really did think they were a good way to show her that I loved her. It never occurred to me how insignificant they were. And she would rave over them, tell me how beautiful they were."

At that, I showed her all four lanyards, including my earliest attempt, so that she would know that the lanyard project had been a labor of love.

She was very moved. And also laughed her head off.

I think that ought to cover Christmas and birthdays for a while. Don't you?

How cute is my mom?!