An Orchid From Mr. Schley

Holiday memories are tricky. They can hit you  like a ton of bricks when it's your first Christmas without someone you love. They can sneak up on you and delight you, like when you see a scrap of fabric reminiscent of a long ago Christmas dress, or you get a whiff of a certain type of cookie only Aunt Rose made. 

       I have dress memories, cookie memories, and memories of a candle my mother lit once a year on Christmas Eve. I have fun memories of toys and jewelry, teapots, cameras,  wrong size blouses and wrong scent perfumes.  Maria's first Christmas,  her squealing joy over Poppin Fresh and Poppie dolls. Treasured memories of gifts from  Maria from her toddlerhood to her teens and beyond. The emerald cut amethyst earrings Michael gave me for our first Christmas together. 

Music memories.  Singing in my school Holiday concerts which were the highlight of my year. Memories of Midnight Mass. Memories of sharing the pretty pink or blue greeting card sized wafer of holy communion at the dinner table on Christmas Eve. We each took a piece, and everyone broke off a bit of everyone else's piece, which was not sacred  to me, it was fun! 

       When Mr. Schley and I were first in love, he was in the Navy in Florida. We were apart for a year, a long painful year. This was the very early eighties. No Internet, no cell phones, Skype, texting. It was Ma Bell and letter writing. When you are newly in love, a day is an eternity to be separated from your beloved. We saw each other twice in that year. As Christmas neared, the Carpenters song "Merry Christmas Darling" was my constant companion. I loved it so much that Maria bought me the record. A 45. Those lyrics were meant for us. "I can dream, and in my dreams I'm Christmasing with you". He called me on Christmas, it was short and happy and I was on cloud nine. Then New Year's Eve came. I was so blue, so sorry for myself.  Spending a quiet night at home with my little girl, watching tv, making special snacks. I felt alone on a night when the rest of the world was wrapped up in someone's arms.  I was missing Mr. Schley terribly. Then the delivery came. He had sent me an orchid. A beautiful, pale purple Cattelaya orchid. Not the plant, a cut orchid. The card read " Happy New Year, I Love You ". At midnight, he called. I cried and laughed and cried some more, and told him how much I loved him, loved the orchid, loved him. Although I thought I was so alone that holiday season, I wasn't. I was loved, cherished, I was in someone's heart, no matter how far apart we were. 

Maria is grown and making holiday memories with her own little girl. Mr Schley died in 1993. I still cry at Merry Christmas Darling, I adore orchids, and I still know that I am  loved and cherished. 

Thank you for the beautiful orchid, Mr. Schley.