I remember the first Christmas after my father died. I had managed to make it through my first semester of college. I'd been away three months, my father passed away about a month before I left for school, so I hadn't really had time to adjust to the idea of him not being at home when I arrived. I knew he wouldn't be, but it was wierd not seeing him come through the door in his quilted flanel shirt and the old beat up cowboy hat, with spots of grease he always wore. It was strange. My mom had started or had completely changed alot of things in the house, mostly what had been they're bedroom. It wasn't thier bedroom anymore, it was hers. I wouldn't go in there. It took a little over a year before I would. That's where we found him, and it hurt to go there. I remember everything being very surreal. Very not right.
My father always said that Christmas was for children and old folks. That's the way he felt about it. I don't think he cared whether he got anything or not, but he always made sure my mother got something. I went with him many times to get her gift. That year he wasn't getting her anything, I felt that it was my duty to get her something. I did. I went to the jewlery store in Roosevelt, there were two places that sold Jewlery, I went to the place that dealt mostly in Silver in Turqoise. This is where I had gone before with my father. It seemed right. In my mind now I can't seperate that years gift from the ones I saw my father buy so many years before. I wrapped it, and put it under the tree.
Christmas came and when my mother opened the present, she started to cry. I didn't understand at first what was wrong. She said: "This is like something your dad would have gotten me." I told her " I didn't know what else to get you." I've never gotten anything from that shop in Roosevelt since that Christmas. I didnt' want to see her cry again.
I miss my fathers presence at Christmas and Thanksgiving still. It doesn't ache, or feel surreal like it did that first year. It wasn't as hard as the first year. It seems that after the holidays the finality of it all was made real. There was no more doubt about it. I still miss him. Not like that first year though. It's more of a wondering. I'll wonder what we'd do different if he was around. What sort of conversations would go on. It's all I can do but wonder. I have taken to heart my dad's saying though; Christmas if for children and old people. I get great enjoyment watching my neices and nephews delight in their gifts, especially the little ones. Their enthusiasm makes me laugh. I'm begining to think my father liked to laugh at the little kids. That's why he thought about Christmas what he thought, because the little kids made him laugh.
I don't know why I told you this, but I hope it gives you something Wyrdghost.
posted by F.G. Shaw @ 6:40 AM
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