Christmas Memories.
He remembered Christmas at his grandparents’ house.
The house was small and modest,
but the decorations and games
were always the best.
In a place of honor,
on the wooden console Television,
sat a plastic lighted Rudolph figure
with a red nose.
There was a light bulb in the nose
and a winding crank
that played Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer.
There was a Coca-Cola company puzzle,
with a snow covered theme,
always present on the table
in the tiny dining room,
where he ate his grandmother’s fruitcake.
It was magic in his mouth.
His grandfather was up before dawn each morning,
and went to Mass each day
before the sun came up.
He wondered about that,
until he learned that his grandfather had experienced the horror of war,
in the trenches of World War I.
His hearing was gone,
in the cacophony of artillery fire.
They had both lost their only son,
his father
in a military airplane crash,
when he was only 5 years old.
He was blissfully unaware
that they were living with that death,
and their own memories
of two World Wars.
He didn’t remember that,
and didn’t become aware of it
until he was older.
But, Christmas was always
the same for them,
and they celebrated with the children
of a father they no longer could hold.
Rudolph is faded now,
and has a broken tail,
and doesn’t light up
when plugged into a wall.
But, every time he looks at it
on the shelf,
a brightly lit image of it
on an old TV
in a small living room,
sitting with his grandparents
fills his head
with wonder and
memories of happier times,
and the taste of fruitcake,
melting in his mouth.
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