Monthly archives: December 2010Entries found: 1
This is our sixth Christmas without Jesse and I still find myself hurtling into the garbanzo beans at the supermarket, fingers pressed to my ears so I won’t hear “through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow.” But if I avoid the malls, concentrate on giving, take the dogs for their daily walk through the woods, I’ll be okay.
Your letters are a balm to my bruised spirit and I thank you for them.
“On Christmas morning, Jesse couldn’t spring from his bed, racing to see what Santa had left for him under that tree. A shard of sorrow pierced the day. But then I remembered my own puppylike eagerness on Christmas morning and my crushed disappointment over getting the doll instead of the book, or receiving the wrong color sweater, and realized that it shouldn’t be about what was under the tree. And for Jesse, it wasn’t. He got presents all year round, the happy result of my yard sale travels on Saturday mornings with my old friend, Maureen.
For Jesse, the magic happened later in the day, when the open house got under way and the living room pulsed with people and music and the savory smells of traditional food and a crackling fire. That’s when Jesse’s face would be alight with the wonder of the season. And that glow is the reward for every weary, overworked parent who climbs aboard the Polar Express year after year, that look of comfort and joy that graces a child’s expression on Christmas day.”