A Christmas Miracle

Christmas Eve.

 

I groan and peek from the covers to glare at the alarm clock and see that it was indeed the twenty-fourth of December. A half-hearted growl escapes my throat as I roll out from the sheets and their warmth. Sitting up now, I run my fingers through my long hair and glance over my bulletin board for any immediate assignments.

 

Holiday Toy Shoppe: did that.

 

Buy x-mas presents for buddies: check.

 

Wrap cousins' presents: almost done with that.

 

Cook food for potluck: damn, need to do that.

 

Forget about him.

 

I sigh at that. "I wish I could," I mumble to myself. After heaving myself out of bed, I trudge over to the whiteboard and erase the top two of the list. I look to the following two and plan them out: munch on breakfast; wrap presents; cook some mashed potatoes or something simple yet delicious. My eyes stare at the last thing on my agenda, trying to find any significance of having put it there. To tell myself to forget only makes me remember, but it seemed logical to write it on my to-do list. My hand with the eraser reaches up and pauses at the three words.

 

I should delete it, like I should remove it from my memory.

 

I should keep it, for it gives me a reason to remember him.

 

I erase the second word.

 

Forget him. That is what I have been told hundreds of times this past year at least and two for certain. I want to listen to my friends and do just that, but I haven't found the courage to give up hope just yet.

 

I erase the second word.

 

Forget. Something I wish I could do; something that I pray he did not do to me.

 

Not wanting to remember too much before the holiday, I walk away from the board and to my closet to get into something that was acceptable to wear when guests pop in or if I needed to go outside for a brief time. Pulling on a simple pair of faded jeans, I check the weather on my iPod and find that it is going to be a rather chilly day. Glad that the sun would be out for a while to heat up the house, I tug a blue thermal over my head and thrust my arms through the holes. I tie my hair into a high ponytail as I stroll into the living room. A note catches my eye as I went by the dining room table, and I pick up to read the writing scrawled on it.

 

Went last minute grocery shopping. I had to take the boys. Leftovers are on the counter if you're hungry. Soup is also on the stove. -Mom

 

Of course she has to go shopping: She is expected to bring some supplies to the party, and she does not want to let anyone down. It is just her way. I investigate the food left for me and find that it is some spam and bacon. As much as that is appealing, I like the idea of nice hot soup warming me up while I work on wrapping presents. My mind made up, I go to the stove, turn it on and check the contents of the pot to make sure that there is enough for me to eat. While my breakfast heats up, I gather the supplies I need for the presents. There are only four presents left, but two are the largest that I have seen in a good long time. I jog back to the kitchen after setting the rolls of wrapping paper on the living room floor and shut the gas off. I select a bowl, fill it a third of the way with rice and serve myself a steaming bowl of lemon grass soup. Delighted with the smell of the namesake ingredient and chicken, I smile and hum a random Christmas song while getting a spoon and finding a spot at the kitchen table. I sit down and enjoy my breakfast in solitude, but after a moment of silence I go to my room, return with my iPod, connect it to the stereo and hit play. Christmas classics that were redone in a punk fashion plays loudly through the speakers, and I smile to myself while regressing back to my seat and resume eating my soup. Kevin and the Octaves' "Up on the Housetop" began, and I sing along while washing my bowl. Soon enough I start to measure the first box with wrapping paper and cut what I need. Taping the edges securely, I fold and use more tape. Fours minutes later, I stick the last piece of tape required on the present. This process takes a while, but I get through it with the music playing.