Summary:\u00a0 This story was written for the 2016 Advent Collection.\u00a0 What does it take to restore fading memories?<\/p>\n
Rating:\u00a0 G\u00a0 (1,850 words)<\/p>\n
Memories for Christmas by Juanita<\/strong><\/p>\n The stars seemed to be alive, casting magical light down on the Ponderosa this evening. A young man pulled the collar of his jacket, trying to protect his neck from the bitter winter winds. The snows had been lighter than usual this year, but what they lacked in snow, the wind more than made up for.<\/p>\n Joe looked up into the night sky, looking for the brightest star in the sky. It seemed to him to be dead center.<\/p>\n \u201cMomma\u2026.\u201d The word ran over his tongue like something vaguely familiar. Shouldn\u2019t a mother be something more than a stranger? Joe asked himself after he made sure that his father hadn\u2019t followed him out.<\/p>\n Joe was seventeen years old, and the memory of Marie Cartwright was almost nonexistent now. At supper, Joe had listened intently to stories of Inger, the first mother Adam had known, and as they recounted those days on the trail, Joe\u2019s mind wandered. He tried to call his own mother\u2019s image into his mind, only to have a blank space appear.<\/p>\n So now he was standing outside in the cold, wanting to kick himself. He could always ask Pa. what was Ma like? Can you tell me more than the usual answer? Joe felt a deep unhappiness settling within the depths of his soul. No, it wasn\u2019t enough. He wanted to know what her voice sounded like. It wasn\u2019t sufficient to pretend that he knew anymore.<\/p>\n This Christmas, he wanted the one thing he couldn\u2019t buy at the mercantile: memories.<\/p>\n He let a tear cascade slowly down his face and then headed into the house, sliding through the room as if it were empty. The majestic tree standing in the corner, with an angel on top wasn\u2019t enough to brighten his mood this time.<\/p>\n \u201cGood night, Joseph,\u201d Ben called. Not knowing the reason for the sudden melancholy that had settled itself on Joe\u2019s shoulders.<\/p>\n \u201cGood night, Pa\u2026 Hoss\u2026 Adam. I love you.\u201d Joe whispered, before disappearing upstairs.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s up with him?\u201d Ben asked, clearly puzzled. The only answers he got were shrugs from his elder two sons.<\/p>\n Alone in his room, Joe took out a sheet of paper and a pencil. He knew that Pa and Adam kept journals, he didn\u2019t see why, though. Tonight, however, he would try it.<\/p>\n Before Joe knew what he was doing, the words \u201cDear, Santa\u201d appeared on the page.<\/p>\n Joe tapped his fingers on the desk noisily, annoyed that he couldn\u2019t think of any words to articulate what was in his heart.<\/p>\n And Dear Santa? What would a mythological man do for him?<\/p>\n Dear Santa,<\/em><\/p>\n I can\u2019t remember my own mother. I had a mother longer than Hoss or Adam, and yet, I can\u2019t remember her. Pa gave me that locket and picture years ago, but it’s not enough. I want to know all about my momma. I want to know why Pa says she was like having Spring in the house year round. I want to remember playing with her. I want to remember the sound of her voice. I even want to hear her scold me, cause that\u2019s better than nothing at all. Ain\u2019t it, Santa? <\/em><\/p>\n Do you remember your momma, Santa? Is she proud of you cause of what you do? Is my momma proud of me? Or does she hate me for not remembering her? Does not remembering her mean that the love is all gone? <\/em><\/p>\n I don\u2019t mean to sound so angry, cause, to be honest, I\u2019m not. I\u2019m hurt. I hope you\u2019ll keep this next part private, Santa. I don\u2019t want the elves or even Mrs. Claus knowing about this. <\/em><\/p>\n I have a feeling, Santa. A feeling that my momma was the hardest loss that my Pa endured. I\u2019m not saying that he loved Elizabeth or Inger any less. I just think that once my Pa had momma for one year, and nothing happened, he told himself he\u2019d have momma forever, then when I was four she fell off that horse. Crushed Pa all to pieces, and still all these years later, he aches. I bet he hurts on her birthday; the day she died, Christmas Time, and Easter. He has his memories. More than I have. He probably remembers her laugh and all the jokes they shared, but when I ask he shares none of it. Just that same old response, \u201cJoe, your mother was like having spring in this house, year round.\u201d And Santa, I\u2019m just so scared to ask him anything else since he gets that sad, faraway look in his eyes.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0I don\u2019t know what else to say, Santa. I have a wish that I\u2019m sure you can\u2019t grant. I wish that I could just spend some time with her. Create memories that will stick. Then, when conversations like tonight happen, I can smile and say, \u201cI remember my Momma too.\u201d <\/em><\/p>\n Thanks for letting me vent a little, Santa. I understand that you can\u2019t grant my wish, but talking about it helped.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0Joe Cartwright.<\/em><\/p>\n Joe dropped the pencil, shook out his hand, and retrieved an envelope. You\u2019re supposed to write in a journal, but he didn\u2019t have one, so an envelope would have to do for right now, not that he was going to continue this.<\/p>\n Feeling the chill at his back, Joe decided to start a fire in the fireplace to warm the room. He waited until the cold was gone to undress and climb under the covers. He fell asleep before his head hit the pillow.<\/p>\n When Ben walked into the room an hour later, he tenderly arranged the covers over Joe\u2019s body and put out the lamp on the desk. Leaving Joe asleep with a smile on his face.<\/p>\n In a world only Joe could see, the living room was a soft golden hue. Joe felt warm. Warmer than he\u2019d felt in a long time. Not sick with a fever, but warm with love. The angel on top of the tree seemed to be smiling.<\/p>\n \u201cLittle Joe.\u201d Joe spun 180 degrees, coming face to face with the woman at the door.<\/p>\n \u201cMomma\u2026.\u201d Marie Cartwright laughed taking a step away from the heavy oak door, her brown curls bouncing all the way down her back.<\/p>\n \u201cSee, my little Joe. You do remember me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMomma!\u201d Joe started running toward her; his arms were outstretched. Any thoughts he had about being a man disappeared.<\/p>\n Firmly held in her arms, Joe felt her breath tickle his ear, as she whispered, \u201cMerry Christmas, Little Joe.\u201d<\/p>\n Just as quickly as she appeared, Marie Cartwright was gone, and Joe sat upright on his bed, looking around.<\/p>\n \u201cMomma\u2026\u201d Joe was speechless, and wondered briefly if Santa Claus really did exist.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll never hate you, my sweet. I love you.\u201d<\/p>\n The room was dark since someone had put out the lamp that was on his desk. Joe peered into the darkness around him looking for his mother, he heard the voice but couldn\u2019t find her.<\/p>\n She\u2019s always leaving too soon<\/em>, Joe thought with a sigh. Mindful of the creaking floor boards, Joe tiptoed out of his room and down the staircase, the candles from the tree, creating just enough light, shadowing the dried cranberries, popcorn, and delicate glass ornaments.<\/p>\n A bright light suddenly appeared, blinding in its intensity. Joe padded cautiously over toward it.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019ve grown so much, Joe.\u201d The light shifted as Marie Cartwright moved to Joe\u2019s seat at the table.<\/p>\n When Joe said nothing, Marie continued. \u201cJoseph, I know that you think you\u2019ve forgotten me, but you haven\u2019t. The memories they\u2019re buried deep down in your soul\u2026 Come here.\u201d Marie Cartwright beckoned Joe with her arm, and at that moment, Joe caught a glimpse of a wing.<\/p>\n \u201cYou have wings, Momma!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo, I do,\u201d Marie laughed. It sounded just like music to Joe.<\/p>\n \u201cI just wanted to share some memories with you, Joe,\u201d Marie once again beckoned him forth.<\/p>\n \u201cMomma, that chair isn\u2019t big enough for both of us!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe have no limits, Joe!\u201d Joe felt himself being lifted and floating toward his mother. Marie gently dropped Joe into the chair, placing her hands on his shoulders, her warmth flooding through him.<\/p>\n What happened next amazed Joe, he felt as if he was he was in a whole different world, in a whole different time. The living room was bathed in harsh white light, before softening to display a scene.<\/p>\n Joe saw Ben leaning against the massive stone fireplace, looking deep in thought, with a smile gracing his face. In the corner was a tree, a rag doll angel was at the top, and glass ornaments mingled with the popcorn and dried cranberries on the various branches.<\/p>\n \u201cHe was thinking of you\u2026\u201d Marie told Joe as they watched Ben. Then, Joe heard light footsteps in the upstairs hallway, and Marie came into view, Joe nestled in the crook of her arm.<\/p>\n \u201cYou were so adorable,\u201d Marie cooed, watching as Ben walked to the staircase, easily lifting her and the baby from the last step. All Joe could focus on was the radiant smile on Marie\u2019s face and his round face.<\/p>\n \u201cI bet you guys just loved pinching my cheeks!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYour pa, especially,\u201d Marie giggled. Joe crossed his arms in mock horror, before cackling, \u201cNot the mighty Ben Cartwright!\u201d<\/p>\n For a while, Marie just sat there with her son, replaying different memories of them together: playing games, chasing each other around the yard, and the rides on Marie\u2019s horse.<\/p>\n Just before Marie made her departure, she called to her mind an image of Joe galloping Cochise into the yard, thinking that she\u2019d give him a scolding he said he wanted in that letter!<\/p>\n \u201cJoseph! You know better than to run that horse like that,\u201d Marie\u2019s face glowed red briefly before she burst out laughing at the expression on Joe\u2019s face.<\/p>\n The light started dimming, and Marie knew that her time was running short.<\/p>\n \u201cMerry Christmas, Joe. I love you so much.\u201d Her hand brushed the side of his face, wiping out the tears.<\/p>\n \u201cDo you have to go now?\u201d Joe watched as the wings started to flutter.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Joe, but I\u2019m never far away, my love. I\u2019m always in here,\u201d Marie reached out a slender finger and jabbed Joe in the chest.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll never forget you again, Momma.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou didn\u2019t forget me, son.\u201d And with that, Marie Cartwright was gone, leaving Joe alone, but at peace.<\/p>\n Joe made his way silently up the staircase and back to his room, where he added more wood to the fireplace, and climbed once more back into his bed.<\/p>\n Joe\u2019s eyes became heavy, but before he could drop into oblivion, he heard a sweet voice whisper, \u201cMerry Christmas, my baby.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe would have thought it was all a dream if it hadn\u2019t been for the angel feather he spotted before he sat down to breakfast the next morning. As he looked at it, it seemed to glow and glisten.<\/p>\n The sounds of footsteps interrupted his thoughts, and he bellowed out, \u201cMorning, Pa! Morning brothers! Merry Christmas!\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Link to the 2016 Advent Calendar – Day 23 –\u00a0 Family<\/a> (by Conny1971)<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n