Christmas story-“Merry Christmas John”

 John reached for the steaming hot cup of cocoa from the kitchen table. It was difficult for him to navigate the journey to his bedroom, holding his cane in his right hand and the cup in his left. Tomorrow morning, he was sure there would be a trail of spilled cocoa upon the floor leading from the kitchen to his room. It was Christmas Eve, and at the ripe age of 90, he had no delusions of getting a visit from Santa this evening. His wife, Jenna, had passed away some fifteen years ago, and their three children had long since moved away. Tomorrow would be no different from today in his solitary existence, his companions: the pain and discomfort of a body worn and weathered. Though his body had faltered, his mind remained sharp, and his memory, surprisingly lucid. He debated sometimes whether this was a blessing or a curse. Nearly all the people he had shared his life’s experiences with had passed, and he was confident any human interaction tomorrow would not extend beyond a phone call from his scattered family, who would wish him holiday cheer and assure him they would be visiting him in the Spring. Finishing his cup of now lukewarm cocoa, he placed the empty cup on the end table and lay back in bed, pulling the covers around him in an effort to fend off the chill that constantly nipped at him. As he lay there, his mind pictured scenes from his long life, but soon he drifted off to sleep.

John awoke with a jolt, unsure if it was morning or night. He felt strange; something was different, and it took mere seconds to define: He felt no pain! He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and looked around his dimly lit room. Though he certainly recognized the room, he battled confusion; it was not the room he had fallen asleep in. John’s heart raced as he scanned the room; it was impossible to believe: he was in his childhood bedroom. His mind struggled to make sense of it. A comforting warmth replaced the cold that had so long tormented him. John thought, “I must be dreaming” … if so, he wasn’t sure he wanted to wake. Feeling nothing short of exuberance, he swiftly pulled the bed sheets down and swung his legs off the bed with agility, and, painlessly, his feet hit the floor. As he sat on the edge of the bed, gazing around the room, he was bombarded with long-forgotten memories and overwhelmed with emotion.

Suddenly, the bedroom door burst open, and brilliant light entered the room. John heard a chorus of voices suddenly exclaim, “Merry Christmas, John!” Tears of joy streamed down John’s face when he viewed the familiar faces of those outside the door: all beckoning for him to join them. His Father and Mother, his wife, his brother, his two sisters, and many more family and friends who had long since departed. In a flash, a large Golden retriever ran into the room. It was Sparky, his loving pet from when he was a child; he was sure of it! Immediately jumping onto the bed, the dog proceeded to lick John’s face excitedly. John felt neither inclined nor even capable of questioning; as never before, he felt joy and contentment envelope him. He briskly petted the dog’s head and quickly rose, walking towards the open door. As he reached the door, he could see even more of the cast of characters who had enriched his life awaiting him. Stepping through the door, it closed gently behind him.

John’s children, unable to reach him, called the Police at 6:30 pm Christmas Day. After several attempts by the Police, no one answered the door at John’s home. A neighbor whom John’s children had entrusted with a door key in case of emergencies was finally contacted, and he made an early departure from his family’s Christmas dinner to meet the Police and open the door. They entered the home at 7:12 pm and subsequently found John’s lifeless body in his bed. The officers later commented to one another on the serene, peaceful expression displayed upon the deceased man’s face. Days later, the medical examiner’s report showed that John had passed away from natural causes at or around midnight on Christmas Eve.