Extraordinary Merry Christmas

'When you're in love you never really know whether your elation comes from the qualities of the one you love, or if it attributes them to her; whether the light which surrounds her like a halo comes from you, from her, or from the meeting of your sparks.' Natalie Clifford Barney

I heard the Glee Club singing '…it's an extraordinary merry Christmas' and thought, yes it is! The kids have been asked to perform a Christmas Special on Lima's PBS which they're ecstatic about and Will and I are having our first Christmas together. No parents. Just us. I cannot wait to give Will his present.

Dear Diary,

I pushed Artie's wheelchair into the Lima homeless shelter, Will's arm around me. It's funny how I don't feel fully dressed without him beside me now. He makes me feel complete. After their own five minutes of fame on TV tonight, the kids wanted to do something charitable for Christmas. So we drove them to the homeless shelter where they kept their promise to Sue and sang and helped out for an hour or so. 'Feed the World' isn't my favourite song, 'Do they know it's Christmas time in Africa…' feels patronizing and full of religious domination, I mean people in Africa would have their own beliefs, but the sentiment was well intentioned and more importantly the kids were exposed to lives less fortunate than their own. It's always a good reality check. I sat down next to Will at the piano and sang along. I ended up getting right into the song closing my eyes and swaying, feeling the music. I felt all Stevie Wonderish. The kids sang a couple of other songs and I draped my arm around Will and rested my head on his shoulder. I love listening to him play the piano; he has such a sensitive touch.

While I cleaned a child's sticky fingers with my wipes, Will called out my name. I looked up. He had constructed 'I love you' in a child's building blocks.' He is incorrigible!

When we got home, we sat on the couch and looked at our Christmas tree.

'I want to give you my present now'

'No, Will, wait until tomorrow.'

'I can't', he said.

He retrieved a scroll tied with a ribbon and handed it to me. 'Merry Christmas.'

I opened it and my eyes widened. 'Our own Christmas song?'

'I wrote it for you. For us to sing together.'

I read the words. 'I love it, I love it, I love it.' I hugged him. We're going to need my present to you then. I got up and went to the cupboard and pulled out the keyboard I'd been hiding. The look on Will's face: priceless.

We finally sang a song together. In perfect harmony.

Best Christmas ever.

On Christmas Day we had a traditional roast. I made my grandmother's turkey stuffing for Will and he stuffed the turkey. Then we prepared an array of vegetables all evenly cut and threw them in a roasting pan. The house smelled divine. I managed a little ice cream with my Christmas pudding. Slowly, slowly, my obsessions are diminishing. Maybe they'll always be there but I'm not as fixated. Perhaps Will is right, the more good memories we associate with food, the more the bad memories we had with them will fade.

After lunch we sat on the couch and watched an old Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers classic, 'Swing Time'– for it's four dance masterpieces. Will and I sang along to 'The Way You Look Tonight' and then we tried to copy their dance routines. As Will swung and lifted me I had a flashback to dancing with him in the bridal shop and singing 'I Could Have Danced All Night.' My heart gave a leap.

'Will? Let's do a dance like this on our wedding day.

Will looked at me with bemusement. 'We'd have to brush up on our tap dancing...'

'Or in my case, learn it!' I interjected.

'You wouldn't mind getting hot and sweaty?'

'I'll have the air con turned up.'

Will laughed. He scooped me into his arms and sat down on the couch with me on his lap and kissed me. 'Anything you want.'