melancholy eve

My mom bought a bouquet of tiny red roses for my father
we went to church at 4PM
I always accompany her to church on Christmas Eve
I give that to her as a present
it makes her feel good to be
surrounded by all of us at church
I HATE church
(Today the priest prayed for "unborn" babies... and he didn't mean the ones inside pregnant women... he also told us, "Sure... Jesus is your friend... but you'll still go to hell unless you walk the narrow path... he didn't say go to hell...but he implied it)
Of course
Dad was missing

When we were young
Dad didn't think about God
He loved life
gardened
or
rode horses
or
mowed the lawn
every Sunday morning
since his wedding never went to church
until he turned 60
he decided he needed to attach himself to a religion
he went through catechism (I think very brave of him since he was ... like older... and can't read)
and became a Catholic

Since then he accompanied my mother to church every week
until he started to talk out loud during the mass
and couldn't remain seated

But it wasn't so strange to not have him there...

After church we visited him in the hospital
Mom brought the flowers
he slept the whole time
we ignored it
held the flowers up in front of him
determined to keep christmas spirit alive
"Merry Christmas!" we said.
"I would have bought you more..." said Mom, "but..."
"Dad?" I said. "How about I rub your legs for christmas?"
and I did
and it got quiet
only the sound of Law and Order on his neighbor's television
sooo melancholy
Mom and I exchanged a look
something shifted in the universe
and we knew
know
Christmas is irrevocably changed forever


My father used to recite the Night Before Christmas late late late on Christmas Eve
His cool friends would always come to visit as well.
F... The drunken effeminate heterosexual
D and A the two gay horsemen who pretended not to be
A's sister the fun nun
my Dad's young friend K who always brought me a really cool gift (well... for me anyway... one year it was the album of The Sound of Music) K was NOT gay... but my Mom would buy and wrap the gift which she would then give to K to give to me.
There would be all the best little tidbits
cheese crackers dips chocolates and tons of cru-de-te DAD LOVED IT raw vegetables
and they'd drink cocktails
and laugh
and we'd all stay up late together
and I felt like an adult

In the past 20 years... this has not happened
K got married and had kids
F drank too much one christmas and got into a car accident while driving home (it wasn't after leaving here)
A and D split up ... A moved to New Orleans... became a chef... and died of Aids
A's sister ... who knows?
D still comes... but now only on Christmas day
and only for a meal
no drinks
no veges
everyone's stomach is this and blood sugar is that...
no more cool gifts

and now... no dad
I mean he's alive
and in the hospital
but he won't be here
isn't here now
and certainly doesn't remember the words to the poem...

here they are:


'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;

And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,

Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,

With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a little round belly,

That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."