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“Merry Christmas.”
I sigh and lean back in the chair, staring out the window at the gentle snowflakes slowly drifting down to the ground. The house is quiet now, compared to earlier this morning when Cam and Theo came over, and we all had breakfast and exchanged presents. It had been years since I’d actually been a part of any holiday celebrations; it felt… awkward, somehow, trying to celebrate something now.
I have plenty to be thankful for. And yet…
“I wish you could have been awake for it.” I turn away from the window and look down at Lucille’s sleeping form, her chest rising and falling in its steady rhythm. “I had hoped that by now…”
I let the thought trail away unfinished. I know I have nothing to complain about. After spending ten years searching for answers, hoping beyond hope that Lucille had survived but knowing deep in my soul that she hadn’t… to have her back now – even in a coma – is something far greater than I could have ever dreamed. It’s far better than I probably even deserve.
Just standing by her side, able to hold her in my arms… that is enough, for now.
I should be grateful. And I am grateful.
And yet…
I look outside again and watch the snowflakes, falling endlessly, each one a unique creation, yet looking just like the last… just like all the seconds, minutes, hours and days that have passed since that day, that moment, when she came back into my life. All of them almost the same, and yet all of them special at the same time.
It is enough… for now.
For now.
I reach over and take her hand, raising it to my lips and gently kissing her fingers. “Next Christmas,” I say resolutely; I’m not quite sure if I’m promising her this or myself . “And until then… I’ll be right here waiting.”