This is a re-worked story that appeared on my blog last year. Because that’s what writers do – re-work things. It was inspired by an email I had received that reminded me that Christmas is not an easy time for some people. I sat down to write and this story found its way into being. It isn’t filled with holiday cheer – it doesn’t sparkle and make you smile like a freshly decorated gingerbread house might. But if you’re lucky it could make you grateful for what you have. So – here goes.
A Special Christmas
She never let herself believe in anything as foolish as the magic of Christmas, but this year she couldn’t shake the feeling that something special was happening. It was as if time were standing still – her whole world poised on the precipice – watching and waiting.
She definitely had not anticipated magic. She had watched as early December slipped by like sodden leaves falling battered to the dark earth. Each day she dutifully ripped off a page of the tablet on the desktop calendar, feeling as though a part of her soul was being crumpled right along with the ball of paper that landed with a thud in the trash bin. Death was everywhere, now. It dogged her footsteps each day when she took the dog for a walk through the garden. Plants dragged down to the earth by the weight of the rain and the early frost. Everything was dark and decaying. Just the way they would all end up one day.
The doctor said they could bring Tabby home for Christmas. In the New Year there would be time enough for arranging hospice care. So she had followed his advice and somehow, against all odds, the magic of Christmas had sunk into her the way brandy would soak the cloth-wrapped fruitcake her mother used to make. There was a quality to the coloured lights and decorations, on the streets and in the stores, which brought tears to her eyes. They had taken three days to decorate the tree. The story of each ornament was told with breathless anticipation, all of them lingering over the details. Then someone would hang the ornament with the greatest care so that Tabby would be able to see each one from the hospital bed that now dominated the living room.
She had never before shopped for gifts when the only priority was the present moment. She bought a CD she knew Tabby would love to hear, a bottle of a light and fresh perfume to mask the ever-present smell of life slipping away, the prettiest flannel nightie to wrap around a body now diminished to skin and bones, a stuffed pink bunny – just like the one Tabby had as a toddler – this one brand new and so soft all she wanted to do was stroke it over and over. She couldn’t believe the absolute joy she felt as she wrapped each gift and laid it under the tree.
She piled up precious drops of time spent together – baking and icing sugar cookies, pouring over Christmas cards, playing Christmas music, laughing together as they placed a Santa hat on the dog’s furry head. She knew she was already storing these memories like a miser with every penny that came her way.
The living room was dark now as she sat curled up in the recliner. The rest of the family had gone to bed to deal in their dreams with their own versions of magic and pain. Tabby was asleep at last, the high sides of the hospital bed pulled up, the glint of the morphine drip catching the light from the Christmas tree. Her eyes traced the line of the IV tubing to the point where it snaked under the blanket. Her gaze shifted to the window and she saw the snow falling in huge, fat flakes to the ground. The trees, branches thickly covered, were already bowed under the weight like so many white garbed priests in supplicating prayer. The quiet was deep and total.
Her world was reduced to last moments. Tears washed down her cheeks unaware. The special moments of magic she felt wouldn’t change the fact that Tabby was going to die. Very soon now she was going to lose her seventeen year-old daughter – bury her before her grown-up life had even begun.
She rose silently and grabbed her coat and boots from the hall closet. She tugged on her gloves and wrapped a scarf around her neck. Out on the snow-covered lawn, among the tall trees, she turned slowly, her head thrown back. The snowflakes fell on her face. She watched the stars sparkle far away above her. All that was, all that had ever been, was now, this moment. It was all she had, all she could hang onto, all she could bear.
disappearinginplainsight 
so much
joy to bear,
it’s grace
she did not burst 🙂
Exactly. I am so often amazed at the way in which the poet can sum everything up with such economy. I admit to being a word glutton, so enjoy the times when all can be said with such grace and brevity. Thank you.
Wow, very touching. Hope you have a joyful & loving season. 😉
Thanks so much, Vanessa. Just home from enjoying holiday cheer with kids and grandkids – tiring but wonderful.
Bravo Francis, beautifully written.
Thanks, Roy. I always appreciate a comment from your direction. Hope you are having a wonderful holiday season.
Oh My Gosh… “snowflakes fell on her face. She watched the stars sparkle far away above her. All that was, all that had ever been, was now, this moment. It was all she had, all she could hang onto, all she could bear.” I am ready to go out side in my PJs and throw my head back now! Great story! Maybe a book of shorts for a Christmas book release next year! I would buy it!
I appreciate the suggestion on the book of short stories. I have a few on the go (not all Christmas themed, though) that could make a nice volume of short shorts. Thanks for stopping by, Giinger and I’m glad you felt inspired by the story.
Lovely, Fran. I do enjoy everything you write. A Merry Christmas to you and Bruce and all your children and grandbabies.
Thanks for being out there enjoying my efforts, Gwen. A very joyous holiday season to you and yours and here’s hoping 2014 brings a strengthening of our craft, exciting writing possibilities, and even more great connections like the one we’ve made 🙂
Thanks for this lovely and thought provoking story! Reminds me and inspires me to sit down and do some writing…
The highest praise one writer can pay to another – you inspired me to get to work. Thanks, Julian. Happy holidays.
Reblogged this on through the luminary lens and commented:
During the hustle and bustle of this season, here’s a contempaltive gift from my wife Francis – a poignant Christmas story that speaks of gratiude and a mothers love.
To all our friends, acquaintances , and fellow bloggers – near and far – Francis and I wish you peace.
Best to you both as well this holiday season. Thank you for sharing your gifts with us.
Your welcome Jeff – thanks for your voice for those who are voiceless.
I’m just going to add my thanks as well, Jeff. Glad you enjoyed the story.
As always – love the reblogs and the opportunity to get my writing in front of a few more viewers. Thank you Bruce.
Merry Christmas and wonderful 2014 to all…
Returning your well wishes for 2014. Thanks for making a stop at my blog.
Beautiful – two mothers in our community lost children shortly before Christmas this year – I’m glad to see a tribute and reminder to those who have not suffered that kind of lost that not everyone is caught up in the same season they are – and, as one who has outlived all but one son, I’m glad to see others who understand the true spirit of this and other seasons – –
Thanks for stopping by and commenting. While we were visiting with family and friends over the holidays, my brother-in-law told us of a service at a local Church that occurs in their community every year called, “Blue Christmas”. It’s purpose is to allow the very people you speak of to come together and acknowledge, during a time when any sign of gloom has you labeled as a big Scrooge, their loss or sadness. Sounds like a really wonderful way of helping people feel heard.
Excellent! Think I will share this with the spiritual leaders in our community! The funeral home that does most of the burials in our small community has a get-together each Christmas for those they have served the previous year and give each family an ornament with their loved ones name and dates on it – – I thought that was very nice of them – but other than that, unaware of special things done like this – Thanks so much for the information!
[…] Source: A Special Christmas […]