Sacred to the Memory of Christmas

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Past."

"Long past?". . . .

"No. Your past."

In the position of Scrooge's nephew Fred, I live in joy with a good wife and wonderful future prospects even without the riches of a reformed old miser of an uncle who will leave me an inheritance. I have an inheritance of family, love, and friends.

And I can't help but think of a good friend lost some years back. She died an untimely death. Unlike Scrooge I am not haunted by regrets. In spite of teenage foibles, I treated her well as she did me. There is nothing to be embarrassed about now.

Our mothers were very close friends and our families spent a lot of time together. Far away from our own extended families, our friends filled that place. We were together on New Years Day, Fourth of July, and especially, Christmas.

1963. This Blogger, C, My Brother, C's Sister.

Our mutual parents thought we made such lovely couples.

C and I went along with it much better than the other two.

1963. C and Her Younger Sister.

Our house. Douglas Fir Christmas tree cut down under

 power lines  somewhere beyond Redmond Valley

1966 at my Sister's blessing.
C, her little Brother, my Brother, C's Sister, me and my Sister.

1974 Juanita High School
Girls Choice

The natural pairing of my brother and I with the two girls of approximate age was cute at the time. And there was only a moment of teen-crush magic on a sparkling frosty winter's evening when C and I took a walk in the woods from her house, her sister and my brother close behind, and the transcendence of holding hands made us more than friends. And that was it.

Oh, we had our teen and early adult romantic traumas. Not really with each other, we were too much friends to be in romantic love. It was more like cousins as we consulted on our respective conditions in that horrible world of trying to find an eternal companion. She was my first "practice" date when I came back from my mission although I'm not sure she was pleased when I took her to the doorstep and asked, "How did I do?"

I wasn't happy the day she got married and I was the last one in the world who could do anything about it. That was the last time I saw her. 

I kept in touch with her parents. As an adult, they were then my friends too. My Mom kept me informed as well and C did not have a happy first marriage. But a very good man married her next and she did have some happiness before cancer took her much too early.  

There is hope in this world of a world beyond all the troubles and strife and lost loves. I did love her and do still in a way that does not diminish my eternal companion and family nor my respect for her. I can't accept the idea that our earthly friends and loves are lost when the ghost of future Christmases pays its cold and lonely call. 

The purpose of Christmas is that we need not fear the loss.