The Candle Still Burns
The lights on the Christmas tree will shine brightly with their many colors dancing against the dark room, reflecting off the picture frames. She'll smile, and cry a bit as she walks to the frames, seeing the twinkle in her granddaughter's face as she tears into the wrapping paper.
She'll think on how a picture is worth a thousand words, but not even all the words in the world could compare to the memory of the first Christmas with her grandchildren. She'll briefly considering all the stress and problems, of plans that seemed to fall apart when one thing after another came their way.
But they still had a Christmas together.
Even if that Christmas together were within the halls of a hospital room.
And then, in the living room of her small apartment, she'll take in the silence and be just a bit nostalgic for when she was the one with two little kids who had more energy than she'd think possible. She'll think on how life goes on, how people get older, and her little boys become little men, and then men with lives of their own.
She'll walk over to the kitchen, take the stuffed penguin with the Santa hat and put him into his box, thinking about how her son never seemed to like that decoration. It was a gift from his brother, and like all great gifts, it seemed that the giver was more thrilled than the receiver when it was opened.
Over the years, having him out seemed to become a bit of a tradition, one that she enjoyed, if only for a reminder of the past. She'll go around the kitchen, putting the other decorations back in their boxes to be stored away until next December. It will have been a couple days after New Year's, time for the joy of the holidays to fade away.
She'll hear her phone vibrating, and getting it out, seeing the text from her son. Maya and I made it back home. We're ready to collapse, but the kids think it's time to play. How did you survive me and Cody?
A question pondered many times throughout the years. She'll think on all the mistakes she made as a mother, of things she'll wish she could have done differently, given them a more stable life, trusted them when they needed a little bit of freedom, and kept a closer eye on them when they were up to something.
But despite all the headaches caused throughout the years, she'll look back and see that her not so little men and turned out just fine. She'll think on how they matured, through hard work carving out a place for them in the world.
Though sitting on the living room sofa, she'll look up at the Christmas tree and wish that their worlds could be closer together. Her kids had their dreams, those that throughout all the years she'd encouraged, telling them to strive for the impossible, to believe in themselves and the gifts they had. Even if she'll still not be sure of exactly what Zack's gifts to the world is. But for all the joy of a mother seeing her kids doing well, she'll wish that their journeys wouldn't have taken them so far apart.
Sure, there will be airplanes that can cross the country in hours. Sure, a car will be able to take a small family across a few states. Sure, she'll be able to get ahold of them anytime she wants with a quick call or text message.
But there will be many times the wonders of technology can't bring them close, and as she'll procrastinate on putting the tree away, she'll be reminded of this fact.
After sitting for more than just a little while just thinking, and playing those memories through her mind once again, she'll get up and unplug the tree, making it so the only light in the room will be that small little candle in the windowsill.
…
He'll return to his small apartment seeing that the clock had just struck midnight.
Things don't go as planned.
A fact that once more will ring through his ears. He'll rush to the alarm trying to figure the latest it could be set for without him being late. With all the things rushing through his mind that need done, he'll know that if he didn't set the alarm them, he'd be sleeping way past when he'll need to be into work the next day.
A scientist setting out to change the world will be his title.
But a young man completely exhausted will be his reality.
He'll think on how this Christmas break was supposed to be so perfect.
He'll think on how it was supposed to start with spending some times with some friends he hadn't seen for far too long. But then they got sick, and plans had to be rearranged.
But then it was supposed to be a time with his family at Christmas, an old-fasioned kind in his mother's small apartment with her and his brother's family.
And then some bug went around making them all sick and Maya needed to go to the hospital.
He'll lie in bed, exhausted from the trip, a flight delayed, and then cancelled, and rerouted getting him back home far later than he'll have expected. He'll curse the forces of El Nino and thunderstorms and airplane pilot unions.
But life will happen.
The magical and tragical parts tend to come one in the same.
He'll think about how he thought he'd finish that brilliant scientific paper that would revolutionize the world with his ample amount of free time during those weeks.
But of course, there will never be as much free time as one would assume.
Though despite how he'll toss and turn in his bed, he'll open his eyes and see the small electric candle hanging in his window, and as it's artificial light glows, he'll let his mind calm for a bit.
He'll think on how the light still shines just the way he left it those couple weeks ago.
He'll think on how the tradition his mother started those many years ago will endure through the ages.
He'll think on the meaning of that candle, of the sign of the First Light that shown those many centuries ago.
He'll think about that light, wonderful and terrifying to the people of the time, and of the darkness that could not overcome it.
He'll think on how that light burns even now just as the candle still burns.
There will be a future in front of the young man that he won't be able to fathom. Of plans set in motion long ago, soon becoming something much more. Throughout his days he may wonder just where all his failures and questions may mean. But then he'll remember the candle that still burns. A link to the light that shines across the country.
A small apartment.
A house that feels small with the little feet beginning to explore.
He'll ponder his plans for the next year.
But he'll know that the plans will likely fall apart before they begin. That will be okay though, because even as he'll be alone at times, he'll know the ties that bind him won't him go, and that while he'll put that candle away soon, the candle in his heart will still burn.
…
A/N: It's been a while, but I love the different style of storytelling I can do with this series. Plus, future tense is fun to write in, I should do it more often! And like all the stories in this series, this story was inspired by some events in my family and in my life.
This was also written thanks to a guest reviewer who a few weeks ago posted on "This Christmas Candle" and had asked if I would write something for the holiday season. And well…does this still count as the holiday season? Your review did mean a lot, and made me think of all the great people I met through this fandom, and luckily still have am in contact with. Even if WoundedHearts is a meany
