It was a nice Christmas
by Carolyn Ristau, Alyssa’s mom

It was a nice Christmas, a very nice Christmas.
The house was decorated,
filled with the scent of Christmas.
I had time this year.
(I had visited her often)
The tree was the biggest ever, the most beautiful I think
(…except, perhaps, for the first Christmas her father and I shared. We’d cut a scrub pine from our Georgia land. No ornaments that year, almost none…we made paper chains and strung popcorn and cranberries…or I did…her dad wasn’t quite used to Christmas then)
…I gave her simple straw ornaments
(…a compromise, for her man was just getting used to Christmas too.) In the house,
Poinsettias bloomed in red glory.
The Christmas Cactus burst in bright fuschia
Our neighbor gave a Christmas Eve feast lasting through the night.
— all the kids— her neighborhood growing—up friends— were there, an old flame too (though he never knew it; I told him afterwards; I didn’t think she’d mind).
We gave her only certain foods, a special, fine steak for her.
I gave her housewares for their new place.
They gave me her paintings and her photo.
Her nearby brother gave each one his sculpture.
Her faraway brother prepared the gift of his kidney.
She babbled an hour with him.
I lost at Scrabble.
We clowned and took photos!
The other neighbors came for brunch.

…the next day, she was tired.

But it was a nice Christmas
… fitting to be her last.

poems by mom