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Stanley watched as the soft flakes of snow littered the sky and the ground outside his house. He was glad of how beautiful the sky turned when Hanukkah came around.
A soft smile graced the man’s face. He’s always loved Hanukkah, the food, the menorah, and of course the time off school and work. Stan also liked to look back on past years of celebration.
He could remember, clear as day, how excited he’d get for the holiday to roll around. Of course he didn’t show it, being one of the only Jewish families in a small town didn’t really give him any room to talk about his traditions.
Yet, for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what town it was. Or why he was so keen on hiding something he was proud of.
Stan shook the thought away, he didn’t want to ruin the night with the recurring headache he continues to have.
The man looked back out the window and nursed the old martini that he again forgot to finish.
Stanley would rather remember the good parts of his childhood. One year, as he could recall, his father had given him a brand new baseball mitt. His love for baseball made that one of the best years he spent in that small town of Maine.
A laugh hidden by a breath escaped past Stan’s lips, it was accompanied with the quiet clinking of fine china being placed along the table.
More memories came flooding in, all happy. He could grasp onto the memory of explaining Hanukkah to a preteen boy with a ever present stutter.
The image of a lanky boy with glasses that perceived his eyes to be ten times larger their original size occupied Stan’s mind as well. He could see the boy smiling brightly with precisely 8 gifts being carried in his shirt, basket style. Stan just knew that he had rolled his eyes and went into full explanation of gelt .
However, Stanley also knew he was ecstatic that the boy even tried doing things Stan’s way for once.
Another memory came to, one of a frail boy and his overweight mother. He could see the pudgy woman glaring at young Stan and his father as they answered the door. Her small son elbowing her quickly, causing her to quickly utter a “Happy Hanukkah.”
Stan can still remember the gift the boy gave him, an incomplete encyclopedia of North American birds. The boy had gone out on a full rant about how he remembered how gelt worked unlike--and just like that the memory passed.
One of Stan’s favourite years was when two teenage boys, those that didn’t take place in his childhood, came knocking on his door with food. It was on a day Stan had been beat for being Jewish. For some reason they knew how to cheer him up, even if they had no idea what Hanukkah was about.
Another memory came to, one of a frail boy and his overweight mother. He could see the pudgy woman glaring at young Stan and his father as they answered the door. Her small son elbowing her quickly, causing her to mutter a "Happy Hanukkah."
Stan can still remember the gift the boy gave him, an incomplete encyclopedia of North American birds. The boy had gone out on a full rant about how he remembered how gelt worked unlike--and just like that the memory passed.
One of Stan's favourite years was when two teenage boys, those that didn't take place in his childhood, came knocking on his door with food. It was in a day Stan had been beat for being Jewish. For some reason they knew how to cheer him up, even if they had no idea how Hanukkah worked.
Stanley could see the year when his father had passed. He could vaguely remember a group of five boys knocking on his door on a night just like this one. All of them held gifts, silence was held as well as nervousness. Stan could recall that he began to cry in front of them, allowing them inside the cold house. It was a sad night, but it was also one of the most heartwarming nights he never experienced.
A dainty hand gently patting his shoulder snapped Stan out of his reminiscing. He turned, a bit dazed, towards the owner of the hand. Automatically a love-filled expression graced his features.
“Stanley? Dinner is ready, do you want to eat now?” Patty spoke softly, masked with pure curiosity.
“Yeah, I’ll be right there. I just need a minute to gather myself, love.” Stan raised his free hand to move a hair from his wife’s face. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against Patty’s forehead.
Patty blushed slightly, still feeling lucky that she was graced with such a sweet man. She smiled up at her husband and nodded her head. Patty walked back towards the dining room, expecting Stan to join her soon.
Stanley finished up his drink and set the glass aside. He gave the front door one last glance, half-expecting three loud racks to echo from it.
“Stan?” Patty’s voice could be heard from the dining room, a small reminder of Stan’s life now.
He let out a small sigh and made his way towards his wife. The moment he laid his eyes on her once again, he was reminded of many things. Patty herself reminded him of why he didn’t mind not being able to remember those boy’s names. He didn’t mind missing such large pieces of his childhood in his memory. Because of Patty, Stan felt like everything that was missing from his life was now filled.
It was because everything was perfect with just her and him. Nothing could stop them.
That was one of the truest statements Stan had ever fathomed, right up until July of that upcoming year.