Christmas Eve…

Jim Jenkins died on Christmas Eve…that’s about all I remember about him personally…that…and that he cut his hand on the tin roof when he was building our barn…I remember there was a lot of blood and he acted like it was nothing…

Granny's rocker at my current home

He was a strong man…a good man…who loved his family…and did the best he could by them…

I sat in Granny’s rocker on my porch this morning…and looked out at his home place…contemplating Jim…and the family that binds us…his father and my grandfather were half-brothers…

I imagined my great-grandmother sitting in the same rocker…on this same porch…looking out at the same home place…I wondered if he lived there as a boy…I have no idea…

I have no notion why I feel compelled to write about this…what is the lesson that I have to learn…what is the feeling that I want to express…

I remember being in Granny’s living room with all the aunts and uncles and cousins when the call came about the wreck…they were on the way to Rachel’s in Tennessee…

I never knew that people died on holidays…I never knew that Christmas could be a time of sadness…and forever hold painful memories…but then…I was only a child…there was so much that I didn’t know at the time…

I remember how quiet the room got after the call…I don’t remember the funeral…I don’t remember ever talking to Melba about losing her Daddy…I have no idea how her Mother managed to make ends meet after his death…

I feel remorse for not knowing those kinds of things at the time…but I was only a child…

Many Christmas Eves have come and gone since then…and somehow…I’ve grown to expect Christmas to be a time of sadness…at least part of the time…and…I reopen my painful memories like presents under the tree…passing them around for everyone to see…

After all…I’m no longer a child…

Jane

PS…now for…the rest of story…I wrote this piece a few years ago…when I was living in my great-aunt’s home place…my great-grandmother…she would have been Jim’s grandmother…did indeed live with my great-aunt and uncle in her later years…and my grandmother sent her the rocker to use while she was there…

I’m still not exactly sure why I wrote this piece…but it’s one that has stayed with me…through thick and thin and numerous computer crashes…so…I’m sharing it today…Christmas Eve…thankfully I don’t feel the need to reopen the painful memories this year or pass them around again…in fact…I think I’ll see what new things are under the tree…

Mistletoe Kisses…

Today’s blog has been hijacked…by a silly…sappy Christmas story I wrote a few years ago…hey…don’t laugh…I think Hallmark will be calling me for the movie rights…right after I get off the phone with Oprah…

Mistletoe Kisses

“Nunh nuh…I ain’t gonna do it…you do it!”

“I double dog dare you!” Carl snarled back.

“Awww…why did you have to go and double dog me? Now I gotta…it’s the code…”

Rod got closer and reluctantly tapped Jill on the shoulder…turning around…her face was directly in his…making the dreaded double dog dared mistletoe kiss a moot point. It happened in spite of him. Maybe it was meant to be…but 12 year-old Rod wasn’t thinking so deeply…he was making a hasty retreat as kids and grown-ups alike were rolling with laughter and 15 year-old Jill stood there with her recently kissed mouth standing wide open.

The year was 1965 and Rod and Jill had just exchanged what would become their annual mistletoe kiss…every year…same time…same place…Christmas Eve at the neighborhood party.

Truth be known…very quickly Rod didn’t need a double dare to kiss Jill…but he egged one on…just to save face. Jill on the other hand…thought very little about Rod…whether he was stealing a kiss or not…he was just a kid, after all.

Years quickly passed and Jill was away at college…but came home every year for the holidays…that mistletoe kiss was now a joke between them. Soon enough Rod left home as well…but he always made it home by Christmas Eve.

Rod’s wife didn’t complain too much when he sought a pregnant Jill out for a holiday smooch…it was tradition after all.

And so the tradition continued through thick and thin…until that year in 2007…Jill came home to spend her first widowed holiday with her parents…not exactly what she had planned…in fact…when the time came…she couldn’t force herself to attend the festivities and insisted that her parents leave her to her own memories…no point ruining everyone’s evening.

Sitting in front of a simmering fire…Jill was startled by the doorbell…who could that be…everyone was at the neighborhood party…everyone except…Rod.

Sitting before the fire…Jill suddenly poured her heart out to Rod…everything she’d been holding back since her husband’s illness and death six months ago came tumbling out.

Rod reached over and pulled her to him…wiping her tears and holding her close…

Finding her composure…Jill softly asked, “Won’t your wife be wondering where you’ve gotten to?”

“Naw…she gave that up when she left me last year…right after the holidays…”

Their eyes met…he pulled her chin toward his…and did what he’d longed to do for years…their first kiss without mistletoe.

Jane