The pile feels endless––an old pair of shorts, a bag of hotel shampoo, the August issue of Family Circle, faded jeans. A few treasures, but mostly junk, languish in this dusty corner of my bedroom. My Mother’s wedding dress lay buried at the bottom of it all.
I unzip the cover and feel the soft, white velvet. She had a Christmas wedding. I can still hear my Mother’s angry voice, “Nothing good ever came from that marriage.”
I want to answer, “Well, me. Maybe.” But I don’t. Like so many other things, this is not about me.
What to do with the dusty dress now? I can’t bring myself to toss it away, into the Salvation Army bag. And so it hangs, crowded into the corner of the guest room closet.
I think of my little neighbor friend, only eight, who endures this grief. Last year, she sat at my kitchen table and cried. “This divorce is even going to screw up Christmas,” she told me, incredulous. “I have to be with my Dad two days before Christmas, and then my Mom on the actual Christmas. But we’ll never be all together. Can you believe it?”
And so we made cookies together. And when she left, by some miracle, she was smiling again. Last week, her best friend moved away from our street, and when the van pulled away, I reached over to hug her. She had no tears then. “Well, at least we can write!” she chirped. “Oh,” she said, “by the way. Christmas is all messed up again this year.”
“Then lets make our cookies again,” I offered.
“Yes, I’d like that.”
Me too, dear one. Me too.
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11 comments:
I like this post. It's sad, really, but I like it. Thanks for the window.
I think it is beautiful that this little girl has you. You realize that you will forever be remembered as that nice lady down the street. Hopefully she will model her life after you.
Keep up the faithful work.
jenn -- it is sad, I suppose. Though I prefer to think of it as melancholy.
anon -- Yes. I think God knew we needed eachother.
I beg to differ with your mom... I can think of at least one good thing that came from "that marriage"!
Good for you for taking time to spend with a little girl who needs some extra lovin'... You're making a differance!
Thank you, my friend.
Call me crazy if you want, but I think this is what changing the world one child at a time looks like.
What if every broken hearted child (and there are way too many of them, aren't there?) had a grown up that met them where they are and gave then a few minutes of innocent companionship? Sometimes letting in a little joy... Oh, what a difference that could make in their long term perspective.
Hey L! Thanks for stopping by. And I don't think that's crazy at all.
I guess the worst thing that can ever happen to children on Christmas is not a "no-presents-Christmas" but rather to have people whom they love are not beside them to spend the season together happily...
This Season is about LOVE, but how can a child feel the magic of this time of the year when she can't even feel LOVED....*sigh*
new mom on the blog -- yes. For many children, they grow up thinking the "holiday magic" is only for others.
And for those of us fortunate enough to have this magic, we need to spread it around.
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