Remembering Christmas

In the morning I awoke to noises coming from the living room. There beside me is nothing but my wife's nightgown. It is Christmas morning and our 3 year old daughter is anxious to tear into her presents. As I stumble from the bedroom, I give my wife a nice passionate morning kiss as she prepares to start breakfast. It is a shame she is already dressed because I like nothing better than to run my hands over that fabulous figure as we cook together.

I see the flash of her wedding ring that she has worn for 5 years and it brings back the memories of how the first year she wore no ring because her mother blocked our marriage and tore us apart. Fortunately for all of us, the vow her mother made that a daughter by the two of us would never be acknowledged fell apart when we allowed her to hold our daughter when she was less than a week old. After that day it was hard for some people to figure out which one of them was the mother.

I held my wife in my arms and kissed her lightly on the neck as she tried to make scrambled eggs for breakfast. With a contented sigh she whispered "Te Amo Mi Esposo, Feliz Navidad". I turned her towards me, kissed her full on the lips and whispered back "Te Ama Mi Esposa, Merry Christmas. (Before anyone brings it up, I Know my phrasing is not proper but it is the way she taught it to me and that makes it OUR special phrase.)

About this time our daughter had other ideas. Sliding between us she looked up at us with her long brown hair and startling blue eyes and demanded "Presents!". We laughed as I scooped her up into a three-way hug and told her that presents came after breakfast. We finished up cooking the scrambled eggs and settled down to eat them. Watching my wife serve up the eggs I couldn't help noticing how supple and full of grace every movement was. And most important of all was the large smile she had on her face because she knew this was the life she had always dreamed of.

As we talked over breakfast, the conversation turned to the past as she remembered that turbulent year that spanned two Christmases. I could tell how she was hurting inside as she remembered the man who used her and then dumped her like garbage once he was done with her. With her eyes brimming with tears I took her into my arms and kissed those tears away. "Even then you knew there was one man who truly loved you" I gently reminded her. Her heart always knew the truth even if her mind was convinced otherwise. With a return of her beautiful smile she said, "I am so glad you were my first".

Our daughter now done with her meal, she put on the santa hat and dragged us laughing towards the tree. Since it is an old family tradition for the children to play santa and this was her first year we set it up by the colors of the bows to make it easier for her. I got the presents with the gold bows, my wife got the pink bows, and our daughter got the rest.

As packages were opened, the wrapping paper piled high and our daughter kept stopping to roll in the pile. They say Christmas is for kids but with my wife by my side and our daughter with us, I knew better. Christmas was for families and for appreciating the blessings God has given us. I had known my wife for 18 years and our Christmas gifts reflected many of the memories we shared together.

Of course the children seem to get the most presents and it worked out that way for our family also. Yet the spirit of Christmas is love and giving and just to see the joy on their faces it wouldn't have mattered if I had gotten nothing. I already had everything that was important to me right in that room. After we were done with all the presents we gathered together and sang Happy Birthday to Jesus and said a prayer of thanks for all that he had done for us.

As we were hosting the Christmas dinner this year, we got busy starting the turkey and assorted side dishes. Her mother was bringing the desserts and the rolls so that was one thing taken care of. As we moved around the kitchen, we kept bumping into each other and she laughed when I almost dropped the turkey. How I loved to hear her laugh. It came from deep in her heart with a tiny snort in the middle of it that is so much cuter than you would think.

When we had a moment during the hectic struggle to get the meal done, we thought back on our presents. As always, she received a heart necklace to symbolize me giving her my heart and she got one collectible Barbie doll which I had done for as long as I had known her. I on the other hand received a black pair of corduroy pants and a bottle of old spice aftershave.

Finally the guests showed up. Her mother and father, her brother and his new girlfriend, and my son with his wife. After saying the blessing, I gave her father the bird. Ok, weak joke, but I gave him the honor of butchering the turkey. We discussed and ate and socialized until early evening when we had to pry our daughter off her grandmother's lap.

After we all said our goodbyes, we tackled the leftovers and the dishes so we wouldn't be faced with them the next morning. Finally around 9 pm we were done and I Gave my wife a special Christmas present. It was a single red rose in a bud vase to symbolize my love for her. It was also a reminder of the rose that was held together by faith and kept watered with tears during that tragic year apart. She still has that one dried and carefully saved just as she does with each year's rose.

Gently and carefully she places it on the nightstand beside the bed. Then with a gleam in her eye she asks if I am going to unwrap MY present. Of course she means herself. She has gained a few pounds and has a slightly fuller figure since the birth of our daughter but to me she will always be the most beautiful woman alive.

As we lay together touching and caressing each other, I ask her if she received everything she wanted this year for Christmas. With a slow smile and a twinkle in her eye she told me there was one she hadn't gotten yet. She wanted a son and I better try my best to give her one.

Later that night as she lay curled up next to me I watched her sleeping. I could feel her warmth and softness beside me and feel the gentle beating of her heart. I listened to her breathe and saw the slight smile on her face as she rested secure in my arms. While I admired her beauty I prayed that she received that last Christmas gift she wanted then I cuddled her closer to sleep beside her.

* * * * *

I awoke in the morning with only a nightgown beside me. The bed felt cold and empty. I looked on the nightstand and saw a single red rose in a bud vase. Slowly I got out of bed and padded to the bathroom then from there I went to the kitchen to get a glass. Coming back to the bedroom I poured a small amount of blackberry brandy into it for a toast.

Raising my glass I said "Te Ama Mi Esposa, Feliz Navidad." Downing the toast in one swallow I looked at the rose beside the bed. It was same rose that had been there for over 10 months without needing water. As tears streamed down my cheeks, I remembered the dream of the life we could have had. It is Christmas and I am alone. I pray for her safety and hope she finds the strength in her heart to return. But no matter what happens, she will always know that she is loved.

If you are blessed to have Christmas with those you love, give thanks for that precious gift. Never take for granted that they will always be there. And if you have a spare moment, Say a prayer for us that she might open her heart and find her way home.

Merry Christmas everyone.
And as always,
Te Ama Mi Esposa,
Forever and Always

All my poems and stories are about one very special lady who doesn't know how important and beautiful she really is. Any "constructive" criticism is welcome as well as any tasteful comments either for or against the story. Either way, vote. It lets the authors know how well it is liked.