Christmas Time: God Is 'all' Things
Good Or Bad. Who wants to be homeless during Christmas time? Not he, anytime. The years he lost, but the memories still there. And Christmas time always the worse. He chose to miss Christmas morning with his little girl. He felt unfamily. The little child asleep, as well as she, when he left. He looked into the child's bedroom, "I want to enjoy His birth with you, as well as, your life, yet, I am unfamily." The door closed so slowly as did as life. The ride to where? Unsure. Staying no choice. Unfamily. In no time, money gone. Car and everything but the clothes on his back. Jobs so short. Move from here to here. "Oh, that is a nice spot." Turning the corner. Many have been there already. Holding of the nose he mastered last year. Lucky when the wood block is tiny soft. The memories and dreams never stopped. Thoughts of them always on his mind. Worse of all, the pains in his heart. Unfamily, a pounding and pounding term. A glance of a young child wishing it was his little girl. Being careful for sure. Women, the glances were short. Her spirit he would feel and know. The time robbed of the little he had. The wounds took weeks to heal. His new friend in the cardboard box told him, "God is all things. Good or bad. It is the not giving up He loves best. "What in the hell does that mean, he thought. Under the overpass he slept tonight. He saw two lizards, side by side. The journey to the gate and beyond. To the land of Above Cognitive and God.
The best time of Christmas time. Christmas morning. Who turned off the lights on the Christmas tree? Letting out the dogs she glanced through the doorway and saw he wasn't there. A little missing of him she felt. She got the courageous to speak out, "It is time to wake her." Not true. The truth, she had no courageous even on Christmas Day. She had no meaning, no more in her heart. Only be being, no more than that. He owes us so much for what he did. Who cares about him? If not for my little girl and he pays the rent, to hell with him. A tear of memory down her cheek, the violin and "I love you," so low and sweet. Oh, not true either. She forgot a long time ago, as her hatred replaced her love. "It is time to wake her," the dogs running in the open door. Another mood of his, she thought. What a pussy to my bitch. What a joy waking her girl? All smiles. Still able to carry her though heavier than last year. "Young lady, go to it." Before ripping on one of the biggest gifts, it is from Steven. Why not his nickname she thought? "Don't use his formal name. He is too old." The gift hit her heart, but then to the side. Many more to go. Still no Steven. After the last gift, or maybe breakfast time, a stop. Where is he? Empty bed. No, keys. Just a note, "I love you both with all my heart. If only people could see you, God." "If only people could see, what does he mean, Mommy." No, answer. "Let's go and eat." She had some thought on what it meant, but wasn't really sure. Only knew her heart ache. On the shelf, she of books saw, "God Is 'all' Things: Good or Bad." What did he mean by the journey to the gate and beyond to the land of Above Cognitive and God?
It feels so good when you find out why you love someone. She knew why, now. She needed him. When thinking him, she thought more of him. When feeling him, she thought more of herself. She could be more than what she was or encouraged by anyone else. It can be done if by family. Family. The word tore at her. Why did she call him, "Unfamily!" Never the term she heard before. She felt how he must have felt. She felt the worse since that Florida trip. God, how could she have done that to him. Why, didn't she hold him and tell him the truth? Why, did she let him go? She always thought she would live old by herself. She assured herself she would, now, except he would always be in her heart. The little one had such a wonderful day. Mentioning Steven's nickname so many times. The day after and the many more to follow so hard for her. From a father-like to none on hand. Time a funny thing. Some days short; some days long. Some days quick; some days slow. Several men; many jobs. All so lacking. Instead of a light of a heart and loving life too, she found some hopes only to be dashed. None about her except using her. "I hate life," became her battle flag. Oh, the fights and worries of protecting her precious. Scars of skin and soul abound. No time for memories. Days of mirrors and soft skin gone. And the days of friend gone, too. Fine people, just ain't the time. At the cafe, a latte a treat. Staring at the wall. "God is all things. Good or bad. Especially at Christmas time," the waitress quoted as laying down the cup and dish. Continuing, "A man told me this once and about the gate to the journey Above Cognitive and reaching God. The nut. Homeless guy."
"Where is he?" she shouted. "It was about a week ago. He comes to the garbage cans every now and then. She left a bill to cover the cost and tip. Out the back she went. Three big cans so green and dirty. One butt sticking out; one climbing in. She saw a cloth ripped and torn. She recognized it in a flash. Her little girl loved it so. She pulled him down. Not him. "Where did you get this?" she asked. A shocked thin-boned face, "Hmm, hmm, Steven the other day. Keeping it for him until he is back. Outpatient down the street. A little liver work." She rushed for she knew where the place. Reading the sign, "Mask Needed." She heard an uneven voice leaving the place. "I'm keeping the mask." Faces met. His so narrow, as his body whole. Eyes met as did their hearts. They heard the vibrations through the air, skin, and then their souls. "God is all things. Good or bad. Let this be a lesson to you both." In the hallway, she was. "Hell with the dogs," she thought. She ran to his room as he was running to her. "What a bad dream," he said first. "I know, me, too, " she replied. "Hell," she said before a hug, "I won't lose you, again," with her arms so tight. She lost all fright and pride. The truth of his love warmed her so. It was many years since feeling that way before. The warmth became a fire with a tug, "Mommy, I love you. Can we open the gifts." Three all laughed. "Christmas time. Yes, you can." There was a race to the Christmas tree. The little girl won, of course. Watching her, the two heard the star, "Merry Christmas to you both. Have you learned." They faced each other and at the same time, "I love you, too!"