A Crappy Christmas Story That Ends Moderately Upbeat
By Elizabeth Yeter
Under the entrance’s awning at the IMAX theater in downtown San Francisco I’m protected from the rain, but the chill on this Christmas morning still penetrates through my coat. Every time the eastbound traffic light turns green, I crane my neck to examine each white sedan that passes. Not him, not him. Wait, that kinda looks like him. No, not him. I pull out my cell phone again. No messages. The 4:35 PM Lord of the Rings tickets burn a hole in my pocket. I check my watch for the umpteenth time. 5:10.
It’s our second Christmas together, except this time instead of being on “dating” status, he’s my fiancé. I fiddle with my engagement ring. Nothing fancy, but I love it. And I love him.
Now all that may sound peachy keen, but you haven’t heard the background story.
Background story: He’s a bad dude. Enough said.
“You need to stay away from your family,” he says. “They’re trying to break us apart.”
So I listen. Love is blind, and I can’t see what he’s doing to me. Slowly he’s drawn me away from the people who love me. My mom, my sister, my friends. The ones who have seen through his charisma and know the truth about him.
He has become my everything.
So instead of being at my grandmother’s house drinking eggnog with my cousins, I’m standing in the cold waiting for him. I told the family they didn’t treat him right, so we weren’t coming. His words delivered through my mouth. 5:30.
What if he’s gotten into an accident? Anxiety rises in me. I dial his number. Again. No answer. 6:00.
I go inside and sit on a bench near the entrance so I don't miss him if he walks in. Two minutes pass. I stand up and go back outside. Better safe than sorry. 6:02.
6:30. A feeling of doom. He. Is. Not. Coming. I don’t want to face that truth, but there is no other option. I make one last phone call. This time, someone picks up. She’ll be here ASAP.
6:45 Mom and Bogie pull up to the bus lane (for more on who Bogie is, see my sister’s post here.) She jumps out and wraps her arms around me. “Oh honey,” she says with a sigh. And that’s when it all comes out. I sob uncontrollably into my mom’s shoulder. And not just because it’s Christmas and I rejected my family so that I could be with a man who doesn’t even have the decency to tell me that he’s not coming. No, the tears keep flowing because in my gut I know that it’s over.
And before you think I’m being overly dramatic, it really was over. I didn’t hear from him again for another three years. In one day, Christmas day at that, I went from the excitement of planning a future with someone to the disappointment and hopelessness of a broken heart. And, most difficult of all, without any explanation. No “it’s not you it’s me,” no “we just grew apart.” Nothing.
“Uh, ladies, the bus is coming and I’ve gotta move the car,” Bogie calls to us from the idling car. San Francisco. Sigh. Way to interfere with my sorrowful ruminations.
Mom and I climb into the car. “Let’s go home,” Bogie says. I think they are taking me back to my empty one-bedroom apartment, but instead our car ascends the highway ramp and heads down the familiar route to my grandmother’s house. I stare out the window and wonder how I can face these people that for months I have ignored. How can I slink back now, tail between my legs, and expect them to forgive me?
It turns out that no slinking is necessary. As we pull into the driveway, my uncle comes barreling out the front door. He pulls me from the car, wraps his arm around my shoulders, and escorts me all the way into the house where he hands me off to my soft, wise grandmother. “There’s plenty of rocks on the beach,” she whispers into my hair. Yes, I am home.
Are you far from home this holiday season? And I don’t mean you live in New Mexico and your family is in California, because home is not a place. It’s a feeling of comfort and security. Home is being wrapped in love, a love that melts away pain. It may come from family or an encouraging group of friends. But sometimes the only one who can bring you home is the voice deep inside you that says everything’s gonna be ok. Don’t let shame, self-doubt, anxiety, or depression keep you from returning to the person you want to be.
That Christmas was, in a word, traumatizing. ( I still have never seen Lord of the Rings and refuse to read any of the books.) But on that miserable day I learned that no matter what difficulty has come your way or what troubles you have brought on yourself, you can always go home.