Audrey Carli   Keep The Tree Lights Burning!

The silvery sounds of carols filled the living room as the tree sparkled, as in the past. But joy saddened and I clicked off the CD player and unplugged the tree lights. Christmas gladness had faded since my husband, Dave, died two weeks after last Christmas.

One thing I knew for sure was I had to shake off grief that tried to knife me. I had to go on alone in life--and I would. Somehow, I would pursue courage and follow a new life pathway.

Leaning back on the sofa in the dim room, I recalled the nearly three decades when Dave came from his teaching day and trimmed the tree. Now our four children were at college or had careers in distant cities. They would visit but I would live alone. The tree lights and carols stabbed with reminders of former family happiness.

Alone in my silent home, realization hit me. Our family Christmases were now a memory. The realization hit like a blow. The emotional pain eased when I unplugged the tree lights and clicked off the carols.

When my son Glenn phoned from his apartment near the college in Mount Pleasant, Michigan and learned of my dim living room devoid of a trimmed tree or recorded carols, he said, “Mom, please turn on the tree lights. Play carols like we did when we six lived on Jefferson Avenue together as a family. Okay?”

“I can’t. Sorry.” Maybe I later could turn them on. If so, I would phone Glenn and tell him so. “In time I might be able to play the carols and turn on the lights. I need…time to…adapt, Son.”

“You have flexible article writing hours. Drive here to visit. You can read while I’m at my classes and job on campus. Your visit will be a curtain dividing the past and present. You can then go forward in life, Mom.”

“I’ll ponder it. It’s a seven-hour drive. I have only been a passenger in a drive that far. I’ll…try.”

Glenn phoned the next morning. I told him with courage I might be able to drive to visit. If the weather became slippery, I could return home.

“You’ll get here okay, Mom. Phone when you leave home. I’ll be waiting.”

I agreed as joy mingled with the fear fragments. Courage won as I drove southward.

Seven hours and 25 minutes later, I arrived at the McDonald’s meeting place near the Expressway. Glenn was waiting as planned and greeted me with shimmering blue eyes and a hug. Gratitude warmed me and Glenn repeated his gladness that I found courage.

During my visit, my son and I reminisced. We knew his dad would be glad we were visiting.

We listened to carols, viewed a Christmas TV special and enjoyed a Christmas concert at the nearby church.

After four pleasant days, Glenn and I embraced in our farewell. Our fresh memories would launch my new life chapter alone.

Before I drove away, Glenn reminded me to turn on the tree lights and listen to carols when I was home. “Dad would want you to do that.”

I drove homeward with a brighter perspective. My visit with Glenn had renewed my Christmas gladness. He told me: “Your visit, Mom, divided the past from the present. You’re on a new life pathway. Dad wanted new tranquility for you. I hope our visit helped.”

I drove home with hope to enjoy that tranquility.     

As I entered my home at dusk, new coziness filled me. I felt “renewed.”

Picking up the phone, I called Glenn that I was safe at home.

“Mom, now turn on the tree lights and play the carols. Dad would want that.”

After the tree lights shimmered and “Silent Night” sounded, I recalled it was Dave’s and my “special carol” when we first dated.

I recalled my husband’s farewell words from his hospital bed: “Smile when you remember our love.”

My thoughts faded as the ringing phone beckoned. Glenn said, “Mom, did you plug in the tree lights and turn on the carols?”

“Yes! And I’m feeling better. Thanks for our visit. That trip and your loving encouragement helped me.”

Glenn said, “I love you, Mom. I’ll visit soon.”

Sharing our family love with my son had given me new courage to drive alone for hours. Christmas gladness had flowed into my life from my newfound determination to seek the courage for my first ever fourteen hour drive to enjoy family time. Our visit eased our sorrow and renewed Christmas joy! DSS

 

Audrey Carli of Iron River, MI., is a free lance writer with two books and many stories published in magazines in the US and Canada. She has also taught creative writing.

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