True Blessings

Chapter Eight

Arriving from school, Sammy found several boxes sitting in Christie's living room he recognized, but hadn't seen removed from storage in the attic for years.

"Are you decorating for Christmas, Grampa?" he asked, surprise on his face.

"Yes," she said from the kitchen, where she was making dinner. "I decided, if you are going to have friends visit while you're here, I'd make the house look festive. I never saw sense in it when I was alone and few visited."

Sammy picked out a stocking laying at the top of items in one open box and bit his lower lip. Topped with a white velvet collar, the red wool stocking had needlepoint images of Gramma and Grampa Haines sewn into it, done by a family friend using photographs.

When he and his parents visited Grampa the morning of Sammy's fifth Christmas, the stocking hung from a shelf, waiting for him. Small, wrapped gifts and candy were in it, with a large candy cane hooked to the collar.

Several gifts were the original photographs used for the needlepoint, and Sammy had spent minutes crying, missing the woman he barely remembered

He wanted to cry now, but not just from the memory of that day.

That winter, his parents began to suspect something different about Grampa. The next summer, Christie stepped from the closet, announcing to her children she was transgender.

Although he was six at the time, Sammy clearly remembered the rage and condemnation that erupted.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?"

"Why are you doing this to us?"

"What about the grandkids – don't you realize how this will affect them?"

"Do you realize how foolish this family looks, now? All Northwood is laughing at us!"

Being six, and devoted to his parents, Sammy was caught up in the outcry. He hadn't really understood any of it, but joined his parents in criticizing his grandpa.

Some anger and rage cooled toward the fall and they had Grampa to the house for Thanksgiving, planning to go to his for Christmas as always.

But arriving that Christmas morning, Grampa greeted them wearing a long jade dress with gold trim, a Hawaiian lei decorated to the season around the neck, a Santa hat and gold pumps.

The shoes were the tipping point, turning Arnold's rage into an inferno within heartbeats.

"What the hell are you wearing, Dad? You'll kill yourself in those. You're my father – Sammy's grandfather! Can't you try to rise above this mental illness you have?"

"I'm happy this way," Grampa had said.

"Then I hope to hell you are happy alone – we are not staying!"

And Arnold turned, ushering Sammy to the car while his mother hurled why-me's and what-about's at Christie.

Sammy remembered Grampa hurrying after them, shouting, "No! Not now! Leave the anger till tomorrow. This is a day for family!"

As his mother strapped Sammy into the car seat, his father stood at the open car door.

"You're an f'ing atheist! Today means nothing to you except to parade around like a damn crossdresser in front of your grandson. I'm not going to allow it!"

Then, his father got into the car and slammed the door closed.

Grampa had rushed to the car, his mother commenting he would fall, wearing the heels. But Grampa didn't. He held the beautiful stocking with Gramma's pictures embroidered on it.

"Here," he said. "At least let Sammy have his gifts!"

He opened the door and handed the stocking to Sammy.

Sammy looked at the stocking, caught up in anger he didn't understand, feeling he had to react.

Everything had been great until that day Grampa decided to start acting as a girl. Then his family had changed. Shouting, yelling and angry words almost always. Grampa was why it happened now!

"I don't want it!" Sammy shouted, throwing the stocking into the driveway and pulling the car door closed – slamming it as his father had.

Sammy remembered Grampa's tears. He remembered the raspy sob he made as he bent down to pick up the stocking.

He remembered grampa clutching the stocking to his chest as the car backed from the driveway then drove away.

Tears began falling and he sniffed.

Christie heard the sniffle and went to the threshold between kitchen and living room where she saw Sammy standing by the box, the stocking in his hands and pressed against his chest. His eyes were closed but tears streamed down his cheeks.

She remembered the day, too. She remembered her heart shredded by his words. She knew he didn't understand what was happening, but the words still stung.

Sammy heard her approach and opened eyes in time to see her reaching for him. He wasn't sure he wanted to return the embrace or keep his embrace of the stocking and decided to keep the stocking.

Christie said nothing, but held him as he fought his emotion. Sammy knew his gender – agreed he was male, but . . . why can't boys cry?

"Let's forget that day happened, Sammy," Christie said softly.

"I can't forget that day, Grampa," he answered, pressing his head to her.

"I love you, Sammy. We get mad and say things we don't mean. We can't erase it, we just bury it under piles of love."

Sammy nodded. "I love you, too, Grampa."

******

Alice, Sammy, Pete and Gabe offered to help Christie decorate, but she shooed them off. "You came here to play billiards, not help me decorate. Go enjoy yourselves!"

"I'd feel guilty if you fell off that stepstool," Gabe said.

Christie laughed. "I will be fine, Gabe. If I do find I need help, I will ask then."

She turned to a string of garland she planned to drape along the curtain rod of the front window.

Alice stroked the wool of Sammy's stocking. "This is so cool," she said.

"Yeah," Sammy said. "Let's go to the basement."

Alice noticed the sad look and, following him, asked, "What's wrong?"

He shrugged. "Let me tell you some other time. Not now."

"Okay."

In the basement, Gabe chose a cue stick and began rosining its tip.

"Your grampa isn't what I expected," he said. "She's friendlier than I thought!"

"She?" Pete asked as he selected a cue stick.

"Pete, whadaheck, Dude. She looks like a lady so it ain't hard. If she's being nice to let me shoot pool with you guys, I'll be nice, too."

Pete looked to Sammy, shrugging. "I just think of the hurt Sammy had for the past six years. It's like we're surrendering."

"No," Sammy said. "It's more like I joined a battle my parents started but . . . I think I joined the wrong side."