3 more days before the grand Finale, Christmas, rolls in and then 2011 will grind to the halt. Soon after, even before, the ball drops, Christmas decorations would be back in the attic, trees packed away or on the curbs, and the stores start their ceremonial after-Christmas sale. This year, we managed to get into the spirit in time – the nearly 20-year-old, one-limb-short Christmas tree was standing next to Mr. and Mrs. Snowman a little after Thanksgiving. She was wearing a new set of after-Christmas sale bargain LED lights, looking oddly unusual or foreign. I couldn’t quite pin point why, but something was definitely amiss – and I am quite sure it wasn’t the 1 small box of ornaments that we decided not to bother.
Not just the tree, other things continued to contribute to the odd factors. My walk pal, iPod, went missing after 1.5 year of faithful service. I left it on my desk that day before heading home as I had done many times, but this time it was gone for good. My Christmas pin, a simple and cheap Christmas tree, was the next defector. It fell off my sweater 2 days ago on one of my shopping trips. I have to wonder, was my Christmas cursed, jinxed? Did it happen when my musical globe broke on the day when we put up the tree? I was then struggling painstakingly to drape that uncooperative garland on the mental when it fell off and its bottom smashed into pieces right in front of my eyes. It was an inexpensive, wind-up globe – all white and silver, with reindeer and a Christmas tree inside. When you turned it upside down, the glistening flakes would dance and flutter like a fairy land where dreams and hopes come true. I had loved that silly thing dearly and left it on the mental all year round. And now it was just a globe lying limb-less in the mass of destruction. The whole room went deadly quiet then and there except my hot tears and muffled sobs buried in the soulless Christmas carols from the radio.
I think my Christmas was taken away since then. Two Christmas parties and all that holiday goodie baking have not helped to pull me out of the gloom. All that is left is a world of craze with Wal-mart’s crowd, collapsed traffic and obligated burden of baking and cooking. Tuesday was one of those. It has been a long week. At 5pm, I was exhausted, but there was still more baking that I had sworn done with and the cooking for the next day’s lunch at work. The kitchen was a mess. I was scrambling to get everything done so I could take Luke to that pizza dinner I had promised him. I was feeling grumpy from not being able to exercise because there was simply no time. Then Luke’s piano teacher stopped by to give me a dinner box and dessert plate, but that short visit took away some precious time that I desperately needed. There was yet another stop I had planned to make after the pizza. Finally I realized I couldn’t accomplish all – not without sacrificing the pizza dinner. I called Luke and told him we’d go on Thursday. No complaints or sadness from him. He ate the salmon dinner from Helen gladly.
Kitchen nightmare done, we went back to Custom Car care to get the cell phone I had left it in the other car and headed straight to Miheila’s apartment. Luke played Silent Night for Maria – she was having trouble learning that piece. After that, those two (9 and 24) looked at Maria's summer vacation pictures from Romania while I had a drink wtih Miheila. From behind, they appeared to be of the same age. That was the only sane moment of the whole week – only because of Luke and his Silent Night.
Last night was the Christmas Service at church. I had fought all day with my downcast. We did make it – a short and simple 1-hour service with music and Christmas message. It was nicely done, and yet I struggled to keep my ears attuned to the words of the true Christmas essence so that my eyes would not stray to the empty spot where Luke usually stands with his violin. Several times I had to touch the body besides me to remind myself that he was not gone; he was right next to me. Off and on his baritone singing would sneak in my troubled thoughts and shame me to tears. We drove home quietly and right after we got out of the car, I saw the violin on the back seat. He had packed it, assuming he would be playing it in the service as he had done for the past 3 years. The pang hit me when he looked alarmed at my inquiring eyes, thinking he had done something wrong. I wondered in that untouchable world beyond those dark brown eyes if he was ever hurt for having been slighted. Even so, it ended as soon as he tuned to walk into the house with that violin case that had never been opened. Whatever injustice it might have been, it was forgiven and forgotten just like that. I wished mine could have too.
I know I don’t deserve Luke – I just need him. His innocence and simplicity is the only hope for me in this life so trifling and trying. And yet he is the shadow so easily overlooked – even by me who needs him most. How can I blame others for doing the same thing? I just wish time could go back when he was still young and I hopeful for a future still beautiful and possible. For this Christmas, the spell or curse of loss stubbornly drags on. I blame the Grinch -- the broken musical globe, the missing iPod, the lost Christmas pin and the empty spot on the podium. He may have spoiled it all, but never my Christmas gift: the 5’ 5” angel without wings.
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