She saved a bit of the household money every month in an old Baking Powder can she stored on the top shelf in the kitchen. It was her insurance that she could provide my sister and I with a very memorable Christmas. She baked, made sure dad got a tree and had him set it up. She made a point of having the whole family help decorate it. My sister, like my mom, was and is still a Christmas person. All the presents were wrapped in bright paper, and placed under the tree. Me and my sister tried to guess what each one contained. It was a game we played every year. We had a wonderful Christmas Day.But the following summer Mom came down with cancer and by fall she had passed. Christmas from that point on, was my dad buying some gifts, then giving them to my sister and me on Christmas morning. No wrapping paper, no excitement, just ‘here they are’.Since that time I have dreaded the Christmas season with a passion. Currently, all it does is disrupt my mundane life. It screws up my television. I wavered. “Well, I need something to sleep in.” He took my hand and led me to my old bedroom. He walked to the dresser and pulled out one of his large T-shirts, and handed it to me. “That should do for tonight. I’ll be downstairs if you need me, Tammy.” With that he walked out and closed the door. I was alone with all my memories of him, of the house and of the love we once shared. I undressed and put on his T shirt. It smelled just like him. I crawled into his big bed. I lay there with my eyes wide open. I could not sleep. I tossed and turned for the longest time. Finally, sitting up, I let the memories of the day go through my head again. Corky still loves me; he has never married, nor have I. He has done all this in the hopes that I would come back one day. To have a life together. I grabbed the other pillow on the bed and held it in my arms, smelling his aroma, remembering how much we loved each other. Losing my virginity in this very place. Not this bed. But this very room. I.
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