Christmas memory for Real Toads

Over at the online writers' group, Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Peggy has asked members and contributors to write about a Christmas memory, either from our own point of view, or from a different point of view—perhaps a child's or a pet's.

Public domain photo

Yesterday, I told Peggy I thought I might try to write from the point of view of a wonderful dog my parents and young brother once had. A cross between the Ortega kids' Mexican mongrel, and Nana Ortega's black poodle, our dear Chiquita was smart and funny, loved Christmas, and always knew which gift on the tree was hers, no matter how many layers of giftwrap Mom used.
I was very busy yesterday, and am feeling under the weather today (although I must admit it is sunny, blue-sky weather above the snow) and I couldn't quite imagine myself as Chiquita, so I opened a page on my word-processing program and decided to see what happened.
And so...what did happen turned out to be a true story about the first year Mom, Dad and our much-younger brother Rob weren't home in Canada for Christmas, when what happened then was a surprise to us all.

Mom and Dad had

their retirement planned

before Mother had

our young brother.

when people asked

“now what will you do?”

they said “he’ll come along,

 he’ll like travel, too”

             http://www.w8themes.com/

and, yes, he was two

the first time they went

and they all fell in love

with the Baja,

and soon the year came

when they left in September

when it wasn’t the same

for us in December.

we all sat around

and some of us frowned

“what happens now?

 we just don’t know how

 to celebrate Christmas

 without them”

our grandparents tried

to cheerfully hide

missing Mom, Dad and Robbie.

but Nanny cried

and yes, so did I

and my sister

(who’d never admit it).

my brother Clint’s wife

said “what a strange life!”

we agreed she was right

and we nodded,

until someone thought

we should all put our thoughts

on a tape 

to send down

to the Baja.

“Merry Christmas, Mom!”

“Happy New Year, Dad!”

“was Santa good to you, Robbie?”

and we started smiling,

then laughing—

we could love them as much

when they weren’t with us

as we did when they were among us.

Kay Davies, December, 2013