A Christmas wish for my wife

Samantha McKenna

My Beloved M,

I witness you sinking into that familiar worn chair, your exhaustion evident now that the Christmas Eve guests have departed. Christmas, our cherished time, etched in memories from the first one in that cramped flat, where novelty and excitement filled every corner.

We stumbled in laughter, adorning the space with tinsel and lights, as we merrily shared our first Christmas. It became a cherished tradition, an intimate bond woven through the many Christmases that followed.

The years of infants and children came after Santa’s magic swirling in the air. Then came the tumultuous teenage years, where frayed moods and elusive desires tested us. Yet, together, as ever, we kept things afloat with cool heads and hearts filled with love. As we aged, things shifted, our adult children turning the focus on us, with gifts and tokens of gratitude.

Eventually, they ventured off to discover their own lives, leaving us two, alone again, like a pair of old slippers, neither any use on its own but a perfect match together.

Grandchildren arrived, and Christmas regained its enchantment, the extravagant decorations expanding yearly, supposedly for the grandchildren, but we secretly relished each other’s company amidst the twinkling lights and fragrant pine cones.

Now, as you stare at my empty, desolate chair, sorrow casts a shadow over your heart. The festive lights no longer twinkle in your eyes; weariness and sadness have claimed their place.

I witness your struggle when the visitors depart, leaving you alone with the torment of grief. They say Christmas is painful for those who have lost, the joyous celebrations intensifying their sorrow. How could it not be? Fifty four years of shared memories, plans, and cherished moments are not easily diminished.

“Time is a great healer,” they say. Yet, you’ve come to know that that is not true. Time merely allows you to accept your new reality, one entwined with the persistent pain of loss.

I long to wipe away your tears, to hold you close and assure you that I watch over you daily. The absence of my physical presence should not obscure the enduring love within your heart – feel it, sense it, know that my love for you prevails.

The decorations you grapple with this year are not just ornaments; they are the embodiment of a lifetime of love, memories, and treasures.

Please don’t think I judge you, after all, I had it easy. I never had to face the agony you now suffer. I marvel at your strength and courage to carry on.

With pride, I see you embrace Christmas, encouraging our family to celebrate despite the pain you hide from them. You conceal it well, only I witness the truth of your sorrow as you sit there alone when they return to their homes.

Just as you’ve always wanted for our children, I now wish for you – to live, to love, and to be happy. Close your eyes, recall my arms encircling you, and let the gentle melody of Silver Bells transport you to my embrace. Sense the warmth of our intertwined fingers in the soft firelight’s glow.

I am forever with you, just look in your heart.

Merry Christmas, My Darling.

Love, P

Samantha McKenna is a member of Inklings Writing Group, who meet on Tuesdays at 11am and Wednesdays at 7.30pm in the Annebrook House Hotel. Aspiring writers welcome.