A Different Christmas, December 15, 2025. 628 Words

Not all Christmases are joyous. In my life I had a sad holiday become a joy.
In November of 1990, I opened my front door to be given divorce papers served by a stranger. I closed the door and walked down the hall to knock on the spare room used as a shared office.
“Mick, what is this about?”
“Read it!”! Slamming the door in my face.
For the next month, I went to work, cleaned and cooked on automatic. A week before Christmas, Mick informed me that Gary, his older brother was coming to stay the week between Christmas and News Year’s’s. I knew that Gary drank and would become abusive when drunk. He had pushed on his ex-wife’s loose teeth, causing them to fall out. I didn’t want to be near the pair of them.
I called my brother Micheal, for advise.
“Get on a plane and fly here to stay over After Christmas until New Year’s.”
My brother Mike bought the round trip ticket. I packed for a week visit. I said goodbye as I walked out the front door.
I flew to Pittsburgh, then a small 12 passenger commuter to Bradford PA.
The plane circled the runway in a snow storm. The lights on the sides of the strip the only distinguishing marker where to land. Hitting the runway, a cloud of snow, rose, covering the plane.
My brother was waiting in the small terminal. We were the last flight scheduled to land that evening.
Mike grabbed my bag, after giving me a quick hug.
“I hope you’re hungry, Kathy has dinner cooking.”
After weeks of Mick be fed by his mother before I came home, It was a welcome change to be catered to.
My niece and three nephews danced around with excitement. Kathy’s Dad, was also visiting after the death of his wife two months before.
After dinner, Megan showed me her room.
“You can sleep in my bed”. ” I will bunk with my brothers.”
Too tired to unpack, I slipped under the down cover and was fast asleep in moments.
That week we played cards, cooked comfort food like chili and warm corn bread.
The house was on a hill. The back yard sloped downhill with the garage facing the street below. The yard was lighted with several gas lights making it easy to sled into the evening. A dozen saucer sleds were piled near the back door.
After dinner, we dressed in wool and down, to tackled the back hill. The yard sported several runs to try. The most used one was a quick straight run to the garage door. It had been used so much, The path was well worn and icy.
The Adults selected a side path, even working to form and smooth the new path.
We played as hard at the kids. When all were cold and wet, we exchanged our outdoor clothes in the basement and enjoyed a hot mug of chocolate with mini marshmallows melting on the top of the drink.
After the sadness of the month before, I felt renewed, hopeful and ready to tackle my future.
All too soon, the week was over. I left Pittsburgh with joy and hope for the future.
***. Poem
Begin Again
As weary as the old year, I gazed out the window at a cloudy future.
The dirty slush gave way to white cleansing snow.
It felt new.
I hurried with my saucer to race down the run.
Thoughts centered on keeping my seat on the sled.
As children cheered, years slipped away.
I was a child on my first sledding run of the day.
With a frosted nose and squinting eyes, I mastered the hill.
After a full day, I slept dreamless.
carolaspot@aol.com
copyrighted 12,15,25