The Wreath
"I just don't get it Ash, I mean in spite of all that's happened and all that we now know, don't you think it's time to put some of these traditions to rest, or at least not take them so literally?" John was sitting on the couch in their living room as he watched the snow fall outside the window and in the distances large floes of ice were making their way down the Bow Valley. One of the perks of his career was that the Alliance was more insistent that he stay groundside and while he despised paperwork it allowed him to work out of the NAS McKnight which was situated on the site of the old Calgary International Airport. This kept him nice and close to his little army that he was raising out here, and it was an army. They had six kids and number seven was on the way.
Ashley came out of the dining room and gave him that stare that was worse than being on the business end of her scope. "John Alexander Shepard, how can you say such a thing?"
"Come on Ash, we are not alone in the universe, then there was the whole Reaper thing. I just have doubts, you know?"
"Let's talk, but we are going to do so in the kitchen. If you think I am going to cook this big Christmas dinner all by myself while you sit on your ass in the living room like some goddamed Norman Rockwell, you have another thing coming to you."
"Look, I've been on my feet all day babysitting nuggets and keeping them from killing themselves on the flight line. Can you give me five minutes?"
"Oh don't even start mister 'I've had a hard day at work'. I've been up since five and been taking care of six kids. You better be up in five or so help me…you're not going to like what happens."
This was enough to get him moving, a pissed off Ashley was bad enough. A pregnant and tired pissed off Ashley made Harbinger seem like a boxful of kittens in comparison. So he did so, and made his way into the kitchen, checking on the ham in the slow cooker before getting to steaming the vegetables and dicing up the potatoes.
Ashley was not far behind him, but she had elected to work on the Brussels sprouts dish from the seated position at the table. Not that he could blame her, she was very round being seven months along and from what he heard from the women in HQ they were never amazed at how well she could manage all their kids and had yet to mention that she wanted to stop. He knew she came from a large family but even now he was beginning to question the sanity of so many. Yet it seemed to make her happy and he couldn't really complain either.
Seeing her sit there in her condition, she looked absolutely radiant and was humming one of her Christmas tunes. John turned from what he was doing and walked up behind her and began to massage her shoulders, in the way he knew she liked and would make her just melt.
"Mmmm…don't stop," Ashley said, putting down the knife she was using to cut up the vegetable and rested her hands on his as he continued to work. "Sorry for getting after you, it's been a very long and stressful day."
"I could always get someone to help you, I mean it's not like we just have Max and Sandra running around anymore," John said as he began to caress her neck.
"John," Ashley breathed as she closed her eyes and tilted her head back. "It's not the extra hands, I mean our neighbors are pretty good about that, now with me coming up on the due date. When I see you sitting there, and then tearing down my traditions, it feels like you just don't care anymore."
This got his attention as he took up a chair and sat next to his wife, holding her hands in his and looking into her eyes, his blues looking into her brown. "Ash, you are more important than anything else in my whole life. The worst part of my day is the drive to work, and the best part is the drive home. When I was in critical after the war, the only thing that kept me going was that I knew you were there waiting for me and standing strong. I did not want you to have to ever stand alone again."
John could see that his love's eyes were welling with tears as much as his were, and though it had been many years since that date, it still wore fresh in his mind. Reaching over he hugged his wife in a firm and deep embrace until another male voice entered the room.
"For crying out loud dad, you would think that seven was enough," this was accompanied by a young lady giggling. He opened his eyes to see his oldest entering the kitchen with a blonde girl about his age.
"Max, I assume this is a friend of yours?" John said, still sitting on the kitchen chair and holding onto his wife's hands while looking at the young pair.
"Mr. Shepard, I'm Petra vonEssling. Maximilian said it was okay if I had dinner with you guys this year." The girl said with a smile.
John looked at his teenage son with a knowing smile, "well I'm sure that if Maximilian said that, then he said it was okay with his mother. I'm pleased to meet you Petra, feel free to have something from the fridge but I wouldn't overdo it, dinner should be ready within the hour."
"Thanks Mr. Shepard, come on Maximilian." The girl said with a smile and ran out of the kitchen with them after they had taken a couple cans of soda from the fridge.
"Oh that is too good, he must have it pretty bad that he lets her call him Maximilian. I haven't even been able to do that since he was seven, and did you hear Miss vonEssling? She called me Mr. Shepard, no one calls me Mr. Shepard!" John said with a proud smile.
"John, it's nothing too serious yet so I don't want you changing magically from an Alliance colonel into Yenta," Ashley said, her expression changing slightly and clearly changing the subject. "Let's talk about the wreath."
John figured that maybe he should have kept quiet as Ashley was most likely to start to go heavy on the religion. While he figured there must be something out there and wasn't hostile to the idea, well his fervor was not the same as Ashley's.
"I want to explain to you the candles and what they mean, more importantly what they mean to me, and not exactly what they traditionally mean." She then reached for the small igniter and placed it over the wick of the first candle.
"The first candle we light is the Hope candle. How can you deny that hope is not alive in the twenty third century? Look around us, we have a family and we survived when all around us everything was just telling us to give up? I light this candle because hope never dies," Ashley then proceeded to do just that, the igniter igniting the wick.
"The second candle we light is the Preparation candle. In everything that happened leading up to the war, are you going to say that you did all that for the war, or what came after it? We worked for this, and I think the results speak for themselves, so I light this candle in preparation for the promise of life," Ashley's smile seemed to take on a bit more of a glow, her eyes almost appearing a little brighter.
"The third candle we light is the Joy candle. Look at what cost it took to ensure our survival and how many we had lost along the way, but we can have joy because we overcame. In spite of everything, we have overcome it all. So I light this candle both in memory and the joy that came after the mourning." Ashley lit the candle, her smile becoming softer, more serene.
"The fourth candle we light is the Love candle. If we had fought for what we have now just because they were orders or it was merely a means to survival I think we would have both thrown in the towel a long time ago. So I light this candle for something that is far greater than actions or strength or anything else, but that unquantifiable element that we call love." Ashely then looked to the central candle, and swallowed and turned her gaze to John.
"The final and central candle we light is the Christ candle. You know what the story of the Nativity is John? Redemption. In spite of all our failings, baggage and mistakes we can find peace and forgiveness. John, I know your heart. You gave it to me long ago and I know its hurt, the weight of the things you have done to bring us life, and it can be washed away in the light of these truths," Ashely then turned off the lights so that they were just sitting in the reflection of the five burning candles.
"Do you understand now why I keep the tradition alive?" Ashley said, reversing roles and now holding his hands in hers all the while John looked at the wreath.
"Javik…Javik once told me that war is our sculptor and we are prisoners to its design." John said, staring at the light of the candles. "What if he's right?"
Ashley took one of her hands and cupped it on her husband's cheek, gently turning his face towards her own.
"I went down the potter's house, and there he was working at his wheel. But the jar that he was making had become flawed in the potter's hand, so he made it into another jar, as it seemed right for the potter to do." Ashley said, her soft tone speaking right into her husband's weary heart. "John, we both have been marked by the war, you even more than me. But we are not stone, we are clay and while you may think you're not fit for anything else, I will say that you are dead wrong. You're being remade into something else, and while we may not know what that is I know it will be something good."
"Ash, that…" John began as he blinked away some tears. "Let's keep the wreath thing going," he said as he leaned forward and kissed his wife. He was wrong, this was a good tradtion.
