My First Christmas Alone

Homer Simpson clouds, what Kirt called fluffy white clouds that dot the sky. It must be a Simpson day, no, it’s Christmas. The sun shining brightly, the still air silently screams, alone.

Alone, what do I do? Who do I please? Chi-Ping sleeps curled at my knee. Smoki says, “Wow” as he squeezes between Chi and my knee. He has the whole bed to choose from, but where he wants to be, with feline finesse he claims his spot. It’s good to feel loved. I won’t say, if only by pets, for it’s the best I have these days.

Chi-Ping the independent terrier, who trusted no one, has given her heart to me. Smoki, the cat, once a curmudgeon, now claims best friend status. Blondie, the bullying big babe seems shy about asking for love; years on the street have taken their toll.

The spiritual spot with pretty house on the hill, beckoned for months. Deep down in our souls we knew it must be ours. Our golden years called, we put down our toil to sit in the sun surrounded by beauty. You lost a limb and then your life.

We were together for always or so it seemed, forty-five years, we stop counting. The sun warms up a gentle breeze. Lucky and Robert Redford search for a way to get into the house. They knew you as puppies; kind of like my sister knew our dad. Lanky lads, they run and play, hunting with gusto or gathering coconuts and avocados, they’re country dogs surviving in style, smart fellows cracking open coconuts by rolling them down the driveway to smash into the neighbor’s garage, a trick they’ve learned since you left us. You told me stories of riding homemade go carts down your childhood driveway, everything reminds me of you.

You demanded my attention, you wanted my love. A pair of white birds flies towards the lake. Smoki wants his share of my yogurt. We acted like teenagers here; really it was fun, my honey and me under a shroud sprinkled with diamonds we sat late in the night, watching for shooting stars, snuggling in the dark. You were sexy right till the end.

Alone, I find myself pleasing the critters more and more, a Christmas Eve party, liver popsicles for everyone; don’t you wish you were here?

You told me you loved me every day, we hugged and touched; I miss that so much. Letting go of you being physically here, accepting only your spirit is near, when I’m addicted to your solid presence is some days more than I can bear.

Either I’m going to learn to go on, or I will die, as stress affects the body. Living with you taught me to love life among so many other things. The salt of the earth, a rather grandiose man once called you, my happy, humble, honey. The world should know about people like you, who lead lives being kind; sharing love, for everyone loved you. And I’ll tell them, as per your request, that man sure could fix things.

So this is Christmas, to anyone who can, hug your honey, say I love you, as much as you can. It feels so good to hear, and wonderful to say, “I love you!” Enjoy your day.