The Christmas Gift

CHRISTMAS EVE 2009
Elizabeth, New Jersey - Christmas with family. Yeah. Of course. That’s what everybody does. Right?
Well not exactly. For whatever reasons, Lois and I rarely did. I bet in the 25 years we were together, we got together with family maybe 10 times. More commonly, we’d stay in town, go to a nighttime service at our church, come home and make some hot chocolate and open presents. But first, I’d do this routine that we were NOT going to open all of them. Only one present each then go to bed.
Of course we never did. We opened them all. I’d get gifts from Lois and from each of the dogs and from the in-laws. Of course, Lois had bought all of them. She knew what size shirts and pants fit me. And what colors to get. (I didn’t. And when she died, I had to relearn a lot of things.) She’d get me 5 or 6 new ties. She knew exactly what colors looked good on television. We’d finish clearing away the wrapping paper, clean up our cocoa cups and go to bed.
Doesn’t sound all that exciting. But it was to us. We enjoyed it tremendously. We enjoyed being with each other tremendously. It was bliss.
Up until that last Christmas together in 2006. Of course, I had no inkling it would be our last. But it was a struggle for her. She was struggling to breathe. I had no idea what damage the emphysema had done. And that before a year would be up, lung cancer would take her away.
But her heart was broken because we’d lost our house and had just days before Christmas moved in with our friends the Esterlines. Lois was a brave little soldier and never complained. But I knew what it meant to her, losing her little cottage, a nest where we’d lived for 12 years.
And so that Christmas Eve of 2006 was hard. We had very little money for gifts. It was just the two of us, sipping our hot chocolate and opening the few things that we could afford.
It was a scene right out of O. Henry’s “Gift of the Magi”.
This is the third Christmas I’ve spent without her. And it’s the first time in many decades that I’ve gotten together with my family: sisters, husbands¸kids, grandkids. I’m a blood relative of all the kids but we’ve rarely seen each other. I don’t even know all their names. But they’re very open with me, a distant relative they’ve heard about. The guy who worked on TV. I’m their grandmother’s brother so I must be really old.
They’re funny. I enjoy them tremendously. Several of them are quite photogenic and play to the camera well. Funny thing how that show-biz flair can run in families.
So I am in New Jersey, surrounded by people who love me, who accept me, who are glad to have me around. And I appreciate them. It’s a warm and fuzzy feeling.
But you know, I still miss Lois.