The most fun I had was shopping for gifts. Norm did not share my enthusiasm in this area. His miserly side sometimes bloated to monstrous proportions, and since he seldom indulged in frivolous expenditures, he saw no reason to do so for anyone else. However, more than having a penchant for saving money or a distaste toward giving unneeded gifts, his aggravation could have been a result of his agoraphobic nature; Christmas meant shopping and shopping meant stores, and stores meant people, and all four elements meant chaos and incredible stress for Norm. Occasionally we would stop and browse in a shop if he was not nervous, especially when we were on one of our drives that skirted small towns; otherwise we avoided heavily crowded public areas. After Thanksgiving my brother and I drove to the Amana Colonies in lowa, a tourist attraction in themselves. We wandered into several shops. At one, a shop selling woolens, we happened upon a shearling coat of rugged beauty and timeless appeal. "What a coat..." Norm inspected the workmanship and overall appearance with something akin to awe. "I wonder if I should try it on..." "Go ahead!" I had never witnessed Norm so utterly engrossed by something of material significance. He slid the coat off its hanger and, shouldering the bulky hide, stepped before the mirror. Few people could have pulled off a look like that; he resembled a veteran mountaineer. "It really looks good," I said. "Yeh, not bad, huh?" It wasn't immodest; it was true. He replaced the coat and, giving it a long look in parting, strolled out of the store. "That was some coat," he raved. Norm talked about it all the way home. Half-way home I knew what I was going to buy him for Christmas. The following afternoon found my dad and me on the highway, heading for the colony so I could buy the sheepskin coat. Clenching my purse, I couldn't wait to relinquish the folded bills in my wallet. "This is going to be the best Christmas!" I exclaimed. Dad looked at me as if I had slipped into lunacy. I hadn't expected him to understand; he was too bitter about my recurrence of cancer. I thought of the previous Christmas when Norm had given me the gold watch necklace. I had been flabbergasted, not only because of the great expense, but because of the love expressed through its purchase. The coat was a similar expression, plus a great deal of gratitude. I needed to say thanks in a way that would last. I never stopped to calculate the length of a lifetime, but believed the coat would survive that long. On Christmas Eve the gifts were opened. "Norm, what do you think of mine?" I baited him. "Didn't you get my gift yet?" I continued. He looked about his feet for unopened packages, but found nothing. I knew he would not; the coat was still in my closet. "Oh! I guess it's still upstairs!" I raced up the steps to retrieve the coat, then decided to put it on and wear it downstairs.