"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
I closed the book slowly, not wanting it to end, not wanting to put the Christmas boxes away. I love Christmas...but I haven't always. In fact, it wasn't too long ago that I hated Christmas with a passion so complete, so destructive it hurt those that I loved most...
Flashback: 1998
"DAN!" She screamed up the staircase so loudly that her children scattered. They knew what was coming next. The oldest slipped out the front door, car keys in one hold. The others ran to their room and covered themselves, pulling blankets and pillows over their ears. Hearing their parents fight would always be only one thing: scarring.
"Mae? What's wrong now?" Dan loped down the stairs, taking them two or three at a time.
"Daniel Ryan Cliff! I can't believe you. You signed us up again. Without asking me. What is wrong with you? Mae screamed.
"Mae, calm down. We do this every year. Come on, hon, don't start this again." Dan tried to keep calm, but already his face was turning red and he clenched his fist.
"How can you expect me to be calm? These people that you make us see every year drive me nuts. Every year. EVERY year. They come up to me and fuss and talk about how much they miss me, and whine and complain about every little thing. Dan, you know I hate this time of year. I'm the one that balances the checkbook, not you, and I have to deal with this crap." Dan tried to grab her arm. "Get away from me! I will not go with you this year to this insane little Sunday school charade you act out."
Mae threw the paper she had been holding to the ground and stomped off, slamming doors behind her.
Dan looked after her for a minute, running his hand over his face. He sighed and bent down to retrieve the paper. After flattening it out as best he could, he laid it on the table next to the front door and walked back upstairs.
The youngest child, Ana, only eight, picked up the page and gazed at it.
"Christmas Party, First Grace Church, Friday nat--night. RSVP." She ran to her older brother, Mark. "Mark, why doesn't Mommy want to go to a Christmas party? I love Christmas! And what does RSVP mean?"
