Christmas Dreaming, Page 2

  “I’ll treasure it,” I said, and I would.

  “They all wanted to come up to see you, but Doc Glover said no. Too many people underfoot, he told us. Too much noise. But you’ll be home soon.”

  “That’ll be great,” I smiled back. “At least the food will improve. I can’t wait to start working on that turkey!”

  “And it will be turkey,” Gloria assured me. “I had put it on hold when we . . . when we didn’t know.” She looked stricken for a moment, and then smiled. It’s thawing even as we speak.

  “But, you ask Doctor Glover what you can eat.” she frowned at me.

  “Nonsense,” I replied. “I can eat anything I want. Especially at Christmas, it’s always been my favorite time of the year. After all, I’m giving up snow shoveling, that’s enough sacrifice.”

  We all laughed. Even Leah’s half smile was bigger. How can lying in a hospital bed with a drip in your arm be such a happy time? Christmas, I guess.

  HOME AGAIN

  The nurse pushed me out to the street in the wheel chair. “I can walk,” I said. “I feel fine.”

  “Hospital policy,” the nurse said. “One size fits all. We get you out to the street and you can jog all the way home if you want.”

  “Maybe I would,” I looked around at her with a smile, “if you hadn’t weakened me with that peculiar food.”

  When we got out on the snow-covered sidewalk, I was actually kind of glad for the wheel chair. “You need a good snow-shoveler,” I told her. “Too bad I can’t help you out. I’ve retired, you see.”

  “You have a good Christmas now, you hear? Don’t come back,” the nurse said as she bundled me into the car. “You, too,” I answered. Maybe she wasn’t so bad, after all. Should learn to cook, though.

  Billy was driving, and taking it slow through the snow, which was still coming down. “Another white Christmas,” I said, “I love them. But you better call that Johnson kid about the sidewalk. He can use my shovel. I won’t be needing it.”

  “You got that right, Dad, no more shoveling. But turkey carving’s another matter. Mom’s all set for tomorrow. Tonight you’re having soup and sandwiches. Just you and Mom and Aunt Leah. Oh, and some Jello the hospital sent along.”

  I would have poked him on the arm, but I was afraid he’d run off the road.

  These pesky heart attacks do tire you out. When we got home I took a short nap before the Christmas Eve sandwiches.

  DREAMING ON

  I was dreaming again, of course.

  In the dream, I was puttering around in my shop, arranging tools and cleaning up the disarray I had caused over time. I do this every so often, but not nearly often enough.

  I was feeling uneasy in the dream, but I didn’t know why.

  I finished up and turned off the space heater. While I was walking back to the house through the snow, I felt even more unsettled.

  “I’m going over to Leah’s,” I called when I opened the door. I hadn’t planned to, but I somehow felt like it would be a good idea.

  “Be home for supper,” Gloria answered. “Bring Leah with you—there’s plenty.”

  When I got to Leah’s, I knocked and opened the kitchen door. I barged right in, as I always do.

  Leah was standing in the middle of the room. Her black eyes were open wide and staring at me.

  She swayed back and forth and then collapsed on the floor!

  “My God! What’s wrong?” I cried out. I examined her quickly. A stroke! It must be a stroke.

  I called 911 and told them to hurry!

  They got there in good time, and I rode with the ambulance to the emergency room.

  I was banished to the waiting area and from there called Doctor Glover on my cell. He was already in the hospital and in a few minutes I saw him walking in. I told him what I could and he went on in to talk with the emergency room doctors.

  After what seemed to me to be a long while, but really wasn’t, he came back out and sat down.

  “I think she’ll basically come through this alright, Bill,” he told me. “You never know with a stroke, especially with an eighty-seven year old woman. There might be small things, memory losses, a little clumsiness, maybe speech defects. Or, maybe not—all the signs are as good as can be expected.”

  “It’s a good thing you were right there when it happened,” he went on to say. “If she had been alone lying there for any length of time, it would have been another matter, indeed.”

  A MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL

  I slept well that night. No dreams at all. I always sleep better with Gloria there. If it weren’t for her I don’t think I’d get much sleep at all. Not quality sleep.

  I love Christmas, but it’s the excitement of the children that makes it so wonderful. And then, there is Gloria’s turkey and dressing in the offing.

  Billy came in, followed by everyone else, stomping off snow, the little ones bouncing around, looking for the presents they knew were waiting for them.

  Leah walked over and hugged me, “Merry Christmas, William,” she said with an ear-to-ear smile. She was dressed in black, as always, but did have a little red and green pin attached to her lapel. I think it was one of Mom’s.

  The three ancient ones, Gloria and I and Leah, sat watching the show as wrapping paper flew off the presents, and the shrieks echoed off the old farmhouse walls. The chaos was wonderful.

  Turkey-time finally arrived, and I was carving, as promised. Everyone was waiting expectantly, especially Leah. She loved turkey. Her black eyes were watching me and her face was creased by that big smile. “Me first,” she said. “Don’t eat too much now,” I told her. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” she said.

  I served her first. She’s the oldest, after all.

  “Merry Christmas!” I said. And meant it.