The Christmas tree

December 30th, the last day of my late husband's life on earth, already years ago. I try not to think of it on that day, but can't help it. Not the day that he actually died which was December 31^st, but his last full day on earth. There was this small Christmas tree with its pale blue and gold baubles, its happy lights, its green boughs. There were Christmas cards everywhere, wishing him and me all the best for the coming year. There was his hospital bed in our living room, there were candles and Christmas decorations, the wine glasses and the table laid for one of his favourite foods, delicious Dover sole, which he could not eat, only look at and savour with his eyes. Outside there was the occasional bang of early fireworks. In the house it was very quiet, peaceful even. I slept on the couch that night, for hours, next to the Christmas tree, till I thought it would be safe to go up to my bedroom. I checked on my husband several times. I did not see Death entering our door. He came as a thief in the night, stealthily. When I came down early the next morning, Death was sitting on the bed, giving my husband just a minute to take leave of me, although he was no longer able to speak nor move.

The Christmas tree was there till Epiphany, the arrival of the three Kings, my husband's funeral and the thanksgiving service for his life. When I came back, my neighbours had dismantled the tree, and tidied the room. Is that why since then I just can't get myself to buy a tree and decorate it? I have always loved doing that, while listening to Christmas music, drinking a glass of mulled wine, smelling the fresh batch of cookies, the fruity Christmas cake, all the preparations for that long awaited feast, Christmas. I prefer going away now, to friends where I am welcome. This year I have stayed at home, but there is no Christmas tree in my house. There is a crib, a beautiful one which does not remind me of that time as it was given to me years later. It is a crib which I love and cherish and the first – and sometimes only – Christmas decoration which I will always put in a place of honour. It will stay there till Epiphany.