VST was the kind of the Honey Do guy of which every woman dreams. There was no request too much, no matter the time or skill required. I only needed to say, “Gee, it would be nice….” or “Would you….” and requests were fulfilled at warp speed. For 32 years, light bulbs never remained dark, because he changed them. The most minor leaks were repaired immediately. Dragging doors were analyzed and problems resolved. Any possible fix-it needed over the years was woven into his extremely busy world with just a simple request. The physical aspects of our lives were always in good repair.
All true, until it came to the Christmas Season. VST was not a HO HO HO Jingling Jingle kind of guy. He had no time for things like Christmas lights or lawn ornaments, until he retired. Last year, our Christmas memories were purposeful and sweet, as Dunmovin House neared completion. There were only two big projects remaining that he would complete in his lifetime. Forever more, his last home was perfectly mended. The flip that ended all flips finished, he put down his tool belt and smiled.
Christmas lights were hung with care last year. Strand after strand, he patiently weathered the cold, while hanging them on hooks he had installed the year before. No attention to painful arthritis, a paralyzed hand, or bad knees. He took me to Lowe’s to buy 40 poinsettias on Black Friday, which I placed all over the house. It takes a patient kind of guy to put up with 40 poinsettias because they make his wife smile. But, there he was helping me count them out.
The neighbors had asked us to join them for Christmas Dinner, but, quietly, he asked me if we could spend it together, just us two. He had a romantic Christmas vision. Of course I explained this to the neighbors, who looked suspiciously. What could two old people possibly need with romance on Christmas? Just what was VST planning??? His plans will remain secret and forever be a sweet gift he shared with me alone.
It was me that ruined that with the onset of a cold. Not the worst I’ve ever had, but one that required Chicken Soup, blankets, and tender care. I so graciously gifted my sniffles back to him, and returned the favor, passing the box of Kleenex. Looking back, it was romantic in an entirely deeper way. One that gets me in the throat if I think about it too long. The most precious kind of holiday missing this year.
Yesterday started out with the realization that November was ending. December always clouds my brain in the most confusing ways. I am a Sagittarian. For those of you unfamiliar with the Zodiac, I’m a December baby. This is an important year. 65. VST was really bothered when he turned 65 in July, and was troubled about it just a year ago, as the snow fell. When traveling, he commented that the road signs were telling him not to exceed 65. Eery, looking back now, as cancer stopped the ride at precisely that age,
In two weeks, I, too, will turn 65, that adding to a mood darkened. Having a birthday the week before Christmas is the worst, so over the years, I’ve done a good job extinguishing it. I don’t celebrate it, acknowledge it, or run around like a child with a new Barbie doll. The quieter it can pass, the better. This year, it’s just me, so, I have decisions to make. Will it be a new tradition or will I find comfort in blotting the day off the calendar? That remains to be seen.
Getting back to yesterday. With invisible clouds in my head on a perfectly brilliant day, I decided to drag out my newest outdoor decoration. The hope was it would elevate my mood. A very tall “Joy” for the front yard. Independent letters formed by a wire basket filled with red, green, and silver Christmas balls, lighted to add to the sparkle. I had loved it from the first glance, and bought it to cheer up the front yard. It was packaged in the RV barn, so, I rolled up the door and got to work unboxing it. The letters were waist high, and connected with wires, and , after a bit of a struggle, they were in the front yard.
Neighbors taking morning strolls, all stopped to talk. The old man with the dog who walks by twice a day stopped to chat, a little more flirty than usual. We laughed about the dangers of ladders, while I examined wire connections. Thankfully, he walked on. It was then, I saw them. Coming straight from the box, without any help from me, the wires on the J were never soldered into the display. The J was disconnected from the OY. It was over. Just like that. It so fit 2020. I could’ve just decided to illuminate the OY as in Oy Vey.
Immediately, I could feel them welling up. I. WOULD. NOT. CRY. Not over something as ridiculous as an unlit J. I had been through hell since the beginning of 2020. I WOULD NOT WASTE TEARS OVER SOMETHING SO STUPID. I thought back to VST and his soldering tools. With a mumble, he would have finished connecting the J, never focusing on a minor inconvenience. Although I had seen him do it several times, it was not in my wheel house of expertise. So, just like that, J — Oy was packed up and taken back to Lowes for a refund. Period.
To anyone else walking by, the house looks neat and tidy. A visual break from the others adorned with icicles, colorful bulbs, and festive yard art. To me, it’s a statement. Christmas is different this year, never to be the same again. There’s always next year to find just the right yard art and design. For this year, it will be stark white, like the snowfall. Someone dear, gone missing. Someone quieted and retired. Someone thoughtfully remembering the sweetness of holidays past, while awaiting a Christmas of new beginnings.