And We Spoke


I am sitting several hundred of miles from home, with my wife.

We are both sitting at a small kitchen table in her parents house, the house where she grew up from infancy.FatherChristmastrial

Her thoughts I cannot read, she reveals nothing, but she seems more relaxed, less tense than she has in quite a while.

I sit, uncomfortable, at the same table, opposite her.  A medium sized metal chandelier above the table, light blazing brightly.

I am a bit more tense, for a variety of reasons.  This is the first Christmas without my father, and I am away from home.

But my wife had not been up to see her parents in nearly 2 years, I could not say no when she asked to come back to her childhood home for Christmas.

She is that important to me, that I would spend my Christmas away from brothers and my mom, who must be having a really hard time not h421px-Carlo_Saraceni_-_The_Birth_of_Christ_-_WGA20827aving dad around this Christmas.  We all loved that man, deeply.

I almost welled up there when I was writing that.

I called mom yesterday, and we spoke for several minutes.  She seemed fine, but she was also running around, being busy doing last minute shopping for some reason. Maybe she just needed something to do.

I called her today, but she did not answer.  She is supposed to be over at my older brothers house now with his wife and two children.

They’ll have a good Christmas together I think.  Mother and son reliving Christmas’ past, while children create similar memories with their parents.

My wife and I will have a good Christmas together I think as well.

My mind will go back across the years to home where my wife will reminisce about the place she is in, and hope for a better future.

Something we all hope for, most assuredly.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

____________________

That’s it from here, America.  G’night.

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