The Meaning of Christmas

Christmas Eve Part 1

As a light rain began to fall, Tina and Angie ducked into an Antique store just as the rain began to drip off of them.  Mother and daughter laughed as they shook the water from their hair.  They knew this was California's version of bad weather for Christmas.  They had been shopping all day picking up last minute items and spending their annual Mother - Daughter Christmas Eve time together.  They had been doing this ritual since Angie was very young, but this year it took on special significance.  Tina had been absent for most of the important celebrations over the last few years due to the divorce.  Bette's breakdown last year had left the future of their relationship up in the air, even though Tina was making efforts at a reconciliation.  Christmas last year was a sad casualty of that breakdown as it happened just before Christmas.  But now was different, Bette and Tina were solidly a couple living in the same home, a family reunited.   Today was a way to connect, renew this ritual and share in the finding of the perfect gift for Bette.  A little know secret about Bette was a sentimental side to her personality.  Over the years, Tina would pick out special little gifts that would hold significance, several ornaments, a Christmas box that now held pictures of Christmas' past, a decoration that could sit on the mantle all gifts that Bette cherished.  Angie had said during their hunt, that Bette had not put out any of those items while Tina was gone.  Angie said sadly that Bette would take them in her room on Christmas Eve and the next morning Bette would have puffy eyes from the obvious crying.  This year was different.  All the gifts had been carefully placed around the house and on the tree by Bette herself.  Both Angie and Tina had offered to help.  They got a firm no, so they sat with cocoa and watched her thoughtfully place each item around the house.  As both women collected themself, the storekeeper appeared out of nowhere. 

"Don't worry," she said smiling as it was obvious why neither had moved from the front entry.  "It's only water." 

Angie moved first as Tina lingered at the door taking in the entire store.  Things were piled everywhere with no real organization.  Tina smiled at the storekeeper as she moved in the opposite direction of her daughter.  She slowly made her way through the store, losing sight of Angie as she wondered aimlessly down the aisle.  It was getting late.  Bette was in charge of dinner and was expecting them home soon, but they hadn't found anything that seemed appropriate for this special year. 

"Feel free to pick up things," Tina heard the storekeeper say in Angie's direction and catching the storekeeper move behind the counter in the corner of her eye.  Tina turned and looked more closely at the woman who appeared young at first glance, but upon a closer look the wrinkles around her eyes gave away a life lived fully. 

Tina turned back around slowly noticing a bookshelf.  She slow made her way towards it, picking up a item here and there along the way.  As she approached the bookshelf her eyes scanned the books reading the titles to herself.  She slowly reached out and ran her finger along the leather bindings.  The books were old and dusty.  Tina always looked for old things that held current significance, again for Bette and her sentimental perspective. 

"Mom," Tina heard Angie call out.  "Come here."

Tina slowly made her way towards Angie's voice.  She came up to the storekeeper who was now arrange hair pins on a tray.  Tina paused at the counter leaning over to get a closer look.  She then lifted up her eyes and smiled again at the storekeeper as she stepped back and made her way towards Angie. 

"Angie?" Tina called out, not seeing Angie anywhere. 

"Over here," Tina heard Angie respond from a room adjacent to the room Tina was in. 

Tina entered the room that had another large bookshelf.  Angie was standing next to it in front of a table. 

"Hey," Tina said as she moved up next to Angie.  There was a large shoe box sitting on the table filled with postcards.