Life’s Irony

Christmas was always a big deal at my house. Many years we had to do without, or get help from Toys for Tots. This year I was volunteering to help them.

I don’t know why money seems to make everything better. Have you ever noticed that. If only I could buy him/her that. He/She would love me forever.

We always think money will buy us happiness and love.
I sat at the computer with a migraine. I always got them when I worked until the wee hours of morning. I also knew I had to be at work at seven a.m. I had cousins coming over to exchange Christmas gifts since they couldn’t be here on Christmas.

I was trying to translate “Merry Christmas” into several languages for my work’s staff newsletter (which I do independently).

My boyfriend, David had already guessed all of his presents, all that is except the engraved watch I never told him I was getting him.

I even had his birthday gift (a DVD/VHS player with 2 DVDs). He tried to guess those, but I refused to let him.

I never assumed that maybe he wouldn’t get them. It all revolved around “He’ll love this. I have to get it for him.”

He had just left my house a few hours before I got on-line. It was snowing pretty hard. The first snow of the year for our little midwestern town.

I heard he hit a patch of loose gravel and ice. Not a good combination. He spun out of control and crashed his ’88 cougar into a ditch and flipped his car.

He died in that crash. I was left knowing that my gifts couldn’t bring him back. Knowing my last words to him were not “I love you.” but, “You’ll have to wait until Christmas to find out.”

Yeah, the presents bring back memories. I haven’t had the heart to cancel the layaway for his birthday gift, or even think about what to do with the presents. I just keep staring at that watch with the words “I will always love you.” engraved on it. I can see my tears fall onto my hands as I write this, the screen blurrs.

Christmas isn’t about money, I see it now. It never was about the money. It was about the love behind it. But what love? I don’t have any now. Christmas will go on as usual. I smile politely as they hand me each present, but I don’t want them. I’d give up everything I ever had to see him just once more… To have him hold me just one more time… One touch… One kiss… One hug…

He hated his life so much. He always told me he went on living only for me… We had planned to get married to have children… We can’t do that now. Fuck Christmas. It doesn’t mean shit anymore.

He always joked, “Well, maybe I’ll die in a car crash on my way home tonight.”

Somehow, I don’t think he meant it to actually come true, though the irony of it all has a bittersweet memory to it.