A Final Christmas

    Josephine paused while boxing the felt cardinal ornaments. She wondered who had given them to her for they weren't a design she favored; she preferred more realistic-looking cardinals.
    Garland was the only decoration left on the tree. The ornaments had been placed in their boxes, and the tree skirt carefully folded. The star lay on the library table, its box beside it. Josephine was considering whether or not to keep it with the other decorations; it was Tyler's favorite tree topper. Perhaps she would display it on top of the china cabinet.
    Josephine put the lid on the box of felt cardinals. This Christimas was possibly the last time she would decorate for the holidays. Three Christmases without Tyler asking what she had in mind. Three Christmases without hearing him say "That looks nice" before hugging her while they looked at the Christmas tree. Three Christmases she had retrieved decorations from storage and wondered what Tyler would like to see on the tree. Three New Year's Days taking down the decorations. Three Christmases too many of missing and grieving for the love of her life.
    Josephine picked up the star and ran her fingers around its edges. She looked at the nearly bare tree and wondered why she had bothered decorating this year. She had had no interest in any Christmas activities. Without Tyler and his smile, Christmas had become just another day.
    Finish the chore, she thought, and decide next year what to do with the decorations.

    Garland removed, the tree dismantled, decorations back into storage, and the living room returned to its pre-Christmas arrangement, Josephine sat in Tyler's favorite chair and wondered what to do with the rest of the day, a day Tyler would have interrupted whatever she was doing by saying, "You can finish that tomorrow. Let's go ride around." A day they would have spent together, enjoying each other's company.
    This was possibly the final Christmas she would be in the house she had Tyler had built, for Josephine was contemplating moving. Why, she did not know, but the unsettledness she had felt since Tyler's death was growing stronger, and driving for a day was no longer tamping it down. But did she want to move? Deep down she knew the answer was no. But how to deal with this unsettledness.
    "Get out and do something," some people said. "Don't sit home alone," others would tell her. "Go out to eat with someone," she heard often. "Find a man,"a few people would add.
    Josephine knew people had good intentions. They didn't want her to be alone, mourning Tyler, not ever venturing out into the world again. She also knew that most of them had no idea what she did with her time. She shopped as needed. She frequently ate meals in restaurants; yes, most of the time by herself, but that was okay. She did things -- like attend concerts in other towns, spending the nights in a local motel. She wasn't pining away alone in the dark.

But this unsettledness. "Antsy," her nightclub-owning Aunt Bess would call it. 
Aunt Bess, Josephine thought. I should call her. Even if she doesn't have an answer she'll have some wisecrack that'll make me laugh.

A two-hour conversation later, Josephine was laughing as she ended the call with Aunt Bess. They had talked of Josephine's loneliness, her missing Tyler's love and strength, and her unsettledness. When Josephine mentioned one of Tyler's buddies suggesting she go to Nashville, get a hotel room and get drunk, Aunt Bess had said, "I'll do you one better. Get your ass down to Westpoint and you can get as drunk as you like and no one will do a thing about it, no matter what you do. The men won't dare touch you if you don't want them to for they know they'd never be allowed to set foot in my club again."
    One thing about Aunt Bess, Josephine thought, she speaks her mind.
    And perhaps knew more than Josephine was aware of, for Tyler had been the only person whose touch she welcomed. An occasional pat on the shoulder, a quick hug that conveyed someone's concern about her, but anything past that . . . hands off.
    Maybe that is all I need, Josephine thought. A visit with Aunt Bess, away from the house for a few days, think things over in a different atmosphere. And, of course, listen to Aunt Bess's opinion on it all . . .

     A month later, Josephine was boxing a few things in preparation for moving to Westpoint. A whirlwind romance had been the last thing she expected to find at Aunt Bess's nightclub, but she and Nathan had hit it off the first night. Now she was leaving the home she and Tyler had shared, maybe not for good, but for a while. Nathan was Aunt Bess's right-hand man, and Aunt Bess was delighted with the arrangement.
    Josephine didn't know if the romance with Nathan would be as stable and lasting as what she had had with Tyler, but she had told him she would give it a chance. Six months, she had decided. Six months to see if her heart had healed sufficiently to allow love into her life again.