Christmas Ghosts

She sat there by the fireside in her Grandmother's rocking chair. Her once lovely auburn hair was now as white as the snow outside her living room window. Across the room stood a small Canadian spruce tree decorated in antique ornaments that had been collected over a lifetime. On the tree hung several of her favorites.

There was the pink and white sugar plum with sparkling crystals, a small, cut glass bell that shimmered when the colored lights on the tree struck it's prisms, a china sleigh with a single horse and a tiny hand-beaded Christmas tree her great grandmother made from Austrian crystals of green and red. But, her favorite tree ornament was the single gold star atop the tree. It brought tears to her eyes whenever she attached it to the top of the tree.

The house seemed cold like a tomb, save for the warmth of the firelight. She stared into it with her grey eyes misting over. Oh, yes. She still made those sugar cookies...just in case. In case, she might hear a knock on her door and see the faces of her loved ones. But, she knew that was not to be.

Christmas was a time for joy, not sorrow. Staring into the amber and red flames in the fireplace, Christmas ghosts seemed to fly across her memory. So many years had passed since the first time she baked cookies for her children, decorated the tree with them and...she could almost see them stringing popcorn and stuffing whole cloves into oranges to put on the tree. She wiped a tear from her eyes.

"No, I won't cry. This is Christmas. It should be a time for happiness," she said to the silent room.

She sipped a cup of hot cider.

I always made hot cider for my husband and children for Christmas, she thought.

Then, we'd sing carols until the children were sleepy. My George and me...we would put out Santa's cookies and a glass of milk on the kitchen table. Then, we'd put the gifts beneath the tree and hang the stockings over the fireplace. When Christmas morning arrived, the sound of the children waking us was the first thing we heard. Oh my! But weren't they in a hurry to open their Christmas presents.

George and me...she thought.

It had been more than thirty years since George Emerick passed on. He was only fifty-seven when he was rushed to the hospital. He never came back home.

Lila Emerick could still see him standing beside the fireplace as he always had on Christmas Eve, proud of the bicycle he managed to put together in time to set it near the tree.

It was like their first Christmas. He still had a full head of chestnut hair then. He had stuffed a small box into the stocking she crocheted, one for him and one for her. He insisted she not open her gift until Christmas morning. It was a gold wedding ring. They never had the money to buy a gold ring when they married. Oh how she missed him.

Memories...What are they but reminders of how little time we have to be together? she thought.

When their two children, Ashton and Gabrielle, grew too old for toys, there were the latest do-dads teens always seem to want. George and Lila scoured stores, high and low, for weeks before Christmas to make sure their children had a few.

Crowded stores, packed shelves and display bins and a memory of togetherness as husband and wife to treasure for a lifetime.

Then, Ashton was called into the military. Lila had a bad feeling about her son going off to war in some faraway land. George pretended not to be worried. But, Lila knew he was more worried than she. After all, he had been in the thick of the Korean War and narrowly missed being captured as a POW.

Lila sipped her cider again. She could see Ashton Emerick standing by the Christmas tree as a young boy, so eager to tear into his presents and as a teen, being less than thrilled with "practical" gifts from his Mom like a knitted scarf to ward off winter's chill. Funny, but that was what he requested her to send him when he shipped out.

He was such a handsome young man. Tall and lanky with chestnut hair like his father and grey eyes like mine, she thought, as she imagined him standing beside the tree.

Tears rolled down her wrinkled face. Ashton never did make it back home from that awful war. He died a hero. Oh sure, George was proud as he could be when his son was given a full military funeral. Still, Lila knew deep inside the loss of their only son was taking its toll on her husband.

George and Lila's spirits soared when two years after their son's death, their daughter Gabrielle or, "Gabby" as they lovingly referred to her, married one of the young men who returned from his tour of duty in Viet Nam. Their new son-in-law, Terrence Connelly, was Ashton's childhood friend and a member of his troop. It was like having Ashton near again for George and Lila.

Lila smiled wanly as she remembered the happy couple standing near the tree admiring the antique ornaments.

"Mama, can I have one of these when we have our first child?" Gabby asked.

"Why certainly! Then, it will be a family heirloom, won't it?" Lila asked.

Lila was thrilled that finally she would have grandchildren to fill the house with the sounds of laughter and fun.

Gabby was true to her word. She had the first Emerick grandchild not one year later. And true to Lila's word, she handed one of the antique tree ornaments to her daughter as a Christmas gift. For a time, Gabby and Terrence lived nearby. Then, Terrence got a job in another state. Still, they and their son, Christian, made sure to visit "Grandma and Grandpa Emerick" every Christmas.

Lila imagined she saw little Christian, "Chris" as he was called, sitting atop a bright red tricycle George lovingly put together just days before. They all laughed when Chris, only four years old then, nearly rode his "trike" over the manger under the tree.

She thought she heard their laughter ringing in her ears.

She wiped away a tear when she recalled how George told little Chris how proud his Uncle Ashton would have been to have his very own nephew.

"Grampa? Who is Uncle Ashon" the little boy asked.

"Your Uncle Ashton was a very brave man who went off to war. He is your Mama's brother," George answered.

Gabby and Lila both wiped away tears at the mention of Ashton's name.

"Chris resembles Ashton, doesn't he, Gabby?" Lila asked.

"Yes...in more ways than appearance," Gabby had said then.

"What do you mean?" Lila asked.

"He asks nearly as many millions of questions as Ash used to do," Gabby said, with a laugh.

Lila stood up from her Grandmother rocking chair and gave the fire a poke with the long metal stoking rod. Then, she put another log on the fire. The bark on the log sent out crackles and a few hisses before it settled down. Lila sat down again.

When George passed on, Lila felt really alone for the first time in her life. Gabby and Terrence were living in New York City where they both found jobs. Chris was in sixth grade then. Gabby telephoned her mother at least twice a week and they stopped in on weekends. Lila looked forward to that.

One morning as Lila dusted the living room furniture, she heard a news break on the TV. She hurried to hear the rest of the news clip. Apparently, a plane had flown into one of the Twin Towers. Lila was in shock.

"It can't be true!" She said to the empty room.

She listened carefully. Then, the news came about a second plane hitting the other Tower. Tower Two was where Gabby and Terence both worked. Surely, they managed to escape.

The horror and awfulness of that moment was too much to bear. Lila felt an odd pain in her left arm, as it spread to her chest cavity. She called emergency services and was taken to St. Michael's Hospital. She needed surgery to repair a leaking valve in her heart. Much of the trauma of that horrible day and the fears for Gabby and Terence were hidden behind the anesthetic she'd been given.

When she awoke in the ICU, she knew the truth. Chris was standing at her bedside with tears in his eyes.

"Grandmother, Mom...Dad..." Chris broke down and sobbed.

Lila tried to soothe him; but, the gaping wound in her own heart made her feel imprisoned by surgical pain.

"Chris...you mean...they are...they were...?" she began.

"Yes."

'Those towers are still burning. There are thousands of people who are dead or missing. Thousands more are working to find survivors. It's been nearly four days and the entire place looks like a massive earthquake struck. Grandmother, I know this is not a good time to ask this of you. But, do you think it would be alright if I came to live with you?" Chris asked.

"Oh Chris. Why dear boy, of course you can! In fact, look there in my purse...it's in the little drawer next to this bed. Take the house key and ...How did you get here? By yourself?" Lila asked.

"No. Our neighbor managed to get me onto a water bus across the bay. Nothing is going in or out of New York City. Everyone is walking around like we are all zombies," Chris said.

"Our neighbor is downstairs in the waiting room. I'll tell him to call me a cab. Schools are closed indefinitely in the city. So, I don't have to worry about my classes for a while," Chris said.

Lila felt exhausted from the surgical procedure and the awful news Chris had relayed.

"I will be able to leave the hospital in two days. You go and stay put at my house. I'll have the hospital take me home by ambulance, if need be," Lila said.

The days after the horrible attack were as Chris had said. People all walking around in a daze. No one venturing out for fear of another attack. All broadcasting via TV or radio was blacked out.

Bridges and roads out of New York City were all under watchful eyes of the military and the skies were deadly silent. All airports were shut down. At night, people gathered together on street corners with candles lit to honor the dead.

Gabby and Terence would never even have a grave for Lila and Chris to visit. Lila tried not to think about the details of their death. It made her feel as if she was dishonoring them. Chris seemed as edgy as she felt. He jumped at the sound of a car backfiring or any other sharp noises. He made himself useful around the house and took on jobs that his grandfather would have done...just to keep busy.

The savagery of her daughter and son-in-law's deaths made her angry for the first time in her life. She knew she had to be careful of revealing it. She had to take care of her grandson. This she vowed she would do at all costs. She observed him cutting wood for the fireplace. He'd heft the ax against the logs as if he was exhausting his anger and feelings of grief and loss. He was an orphan who would be raised to adulthood by his only living relative, Grandmother Lila.

Lila remembered how Chris became overprotective of her. He worried each time she had an ache or a pain. She understood why. He was too old to hug and soothe. She recalled how he would give her a peck on the top of her head or a quick hug each night before he went to sleep in the room that had once been Ashton's.

Lila saw a picture in her mind of her grandson as a teenager, quite reserved and mature for his age. He chose a local college. Lila was glad. He would study engineering.

"Grandmother, I chose this college to keep my eye on you!" he said, laughing.

"You have two eyes and you need to keep both on your studies, young man!" Lila shot back with a grin.

She rose to go to the kitchen. It was a cup of hot tea she wanted now to soothe her old bones.

Hot tea...Chris's favorite drink, she thought.

She waited for the tea kettle to begin its shrill whistle, poured the boiling water into a cup with a teabag and made her way back to her rocking chair.

She laughed as she recalled how Chris thought using one of those "old fashioned" metal tea infusers needed "updating." That Christmas, he stuffed a box of tea bags into her stocking.

"I get your message, Chris," Lila laughed.

"Grandmother, just try using a teabag. You'll see. You'll love it," Chris encouraged.

"I am surprised that a young man so focused on the "environment' as you call it, wouldn't see that you can't recycle these tea bags. A tea infuser doesn't need to be recycled and the used tea leaves inside it, can be," Lila reminded him.

She smiled as she recalled the expression on her grandson' face. It was like the expression he had when his name was called during his college graduation exercise.

It wasn't long after college graduation that he announced he was enlisting in the military. Lila was scared. She remembered what George had gone through in Korea and how she lost her only son to war in Viet Nam.

"Oh Chris. Are you certain of this?" she asked.

"Grandmother, don't worry. I'll be okay. The military desperately needs good engineers. Besides, with experience in the military, I can do my tour of duty and then get my Masters degree. I'll be safe. I won't be on active duty," he said.

In the days before he was to leave for his tour of duty, Lila prayed hard for his safety. He looked so grand in his uniform.

"I'll write you every day, Grandmother. I'll be home before you know it," he said, as he boarded the transit bus.

Chris was in the military two years. He came home only twice before he was to return. Lila kept hearing the word "Iraq," over and over on TV and in the news.

She tried to remember where exactly it was. She even located it on the desktop globe in Ashton's room.

The phone rang in August of 2003.

"Grandmother? It's your wandering grandson? Your ONLY grandson?" Chris said.

"Oh goodness, Chris? Is it really you?" Lila said.

"Tis I in the flesh," he joked.

"Are you finished your time in the military?" Lila asked.

"That's why I called you. I am attached to a group headed for Iraq," Chris said, calm as ever.

"Iraq! Oh no! Chris, please...not Iraq!"

"Grandmother, I'll be just fine. I know the ghosts of Grandfather and Uncle Ash's military experiences haunt you. But, this is a different day and age. Wars aren't fought like they were in their day," Chris said.

"Well, I am sure you know what you are doing. Will I see you before you leave?" Lila asked.

"No, Grandmother. But, I am sending you my Christmas present a little early. I hope you like it and as Grandfather would say, "Do Not Open Until Christmas! I'll see you in due time," Chris said and rang off.

The house seemed so empty then. Lila kept busy by volunteering at the local military hospital. She'd done a bit of nursing before she married and thought she might help out a little.

When Christmas finally came that year, the phone rang and it was Chris. He called on Christmas morning to say "You can open your present from me now."

With Chris in earshot on the phone, she quickly unwrapped the gift. It was a Christmas ornament! It was a round medallion in cast pewter with all of their family names on it.

"Oh Chris, it's wonderful. Did you get my present? I sent it nearly a month ago."

"Not yet. Don't worry Grandmother, it takes a while to get anything through the military these days. Anyway, Merry Christmas and have a cup of hot cider for me. I'll be home before the next Christmas to get a cup of that wonderful cider," he said, ringing off.

The day after New Year's, Lila was in the kitchen reading the newspapers and having a cup of coffee. She heard a knock on the front door.

Who can that be? she wondered.

"Ooooh...Maybe it's Chris come to surprise me!" she said.

When she opened the door, she saw a tall man in a military uniform.

"Oh no...please God...Oh no...It can't be," she said.

"I'm so sorry to have to inform you, ma'am. Christian Connolly was killed two days ago. He was traveling with several others when their truck was hit by fire," the man said.

Lila fell over in a faint. When she came to, the young man was gone and two men from emergency services were tending her.

"I'm fine. I'm fine! Leave me be!" she screamed.

"Ma'am you should let us take you to the hospital," one of the EMTs said.

"I don't need a doctor," Lila said.

"Is there someone we can call for you?" he asked.

Lila barely managed to answer. Now, she was really all alone.

"No. No one. My last living relative was killed in some godforsaken wasteland. I just need rest," she said.

Lila remembered that day too.

Now, the fire was slowly dying. Lila felt a strong pain in her chest. She knew what it was. She knew this was her last Christmas. No. She wouldn't call for help. Too many Christmases alone with Christmas ghosts was more than one heart could bear. She closed her eyes and waited. The throbbing in her chest grew slower and slower. She opened her eyes for a single moment to see the golden star at the top of the tree shining as it never had before. It was the medal she received for being a Gold Star Mother when Ashton died. The light from the star was so bright that she closed her eyes again...for the last time.