Deck The Hall and All That Jazz..

As Christmas quickly approaches, I find myself continuing to recall all those previous Christmas days that John & I spent together.

He usually worked on Christmas Eve. He worked the graveyard shift over the entire course of our time together so he was always home on Christmas day no matter which day of the week Christmas happened to fall on. He got just as excited as the kids. He tried to play it off over the years, but I saw that "twinkle" in his eye on Christmas morning. After lying down for just a few hours, he would "drag" himself out of bed after being beckoned by our kids to "come see what Santa got for us Daddy!" He loved it. He tried to be the Scrooge but he didn't fool me. I even got him to attend a few of the holiday parties that were put on by folks that I worked with.

I attended that party just last night. It was nice and I enjoyed it but it wasn't the same. An "ex" co-worker was standing in the kitchen and saw me for the first time since she'd come thru the door. She said something that I didn't quite hear so I moved closer to her. She asked the question again...."How's John doing?" I almost didn't know what to say. I thought everyone would know by now. But in all fairness to her, she no longer works with us. So I told her that John had passed away in July. She apologized for not knowing. That moment was so surreal for me. It still doesn't feel right saying that John is no longer here. But I got through it.

I returned home to my empty house. Reality. Cold, hard and unforgiving. As I sat and watched the Christmas tree display it's fiber optic light show, I drifted back to a happier time. Sitting with John and watching the tree lights flicker in the darkness after the kids went to bed. He would tell me of some of his childhood memories of Christmas. The good times with his siblings and their appreciation for whatever was under the tree.

So even though John talked like Scrooge, his actions betrayed his speech. We didn't care that we rarely bought each other presents. It was all about the kids. Sometimes, it was John that was the kid. He critiqued the decorations. He "helped" the kids open their presents. He cooked that ham for us almost every year. He drank the hot chocolate and listened to the Christmas music with me. He phoned home on Christmas Eve to lend his "expertise" on putting together the bicycles and toys. So he wasn't really a Scrooge. He didn't even put a tree when I first came into his life. So he came full circle over the years.

I miss him. John, my Christmas angel.