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Rated: E · Short Story · Emotional · #917669
Annie had always enjoyed Christmas with the family , but this year it would be different.

Christmas had always been a special time for Annie, when the whole family would reunite around the table for lunch.

Coloured decorations adorned every wall, and the Christmas tree, with hundreds of sparkling lights, flashed on and off, like orbs on a disco floor. The excitement of children echoed throughout the room, as they eagerly stared at the presents surrounding the overloaded tree; all just waiting for little hands to open them.

Annie was single and still lived with her parents. She had not found her prince charming as yet, but her father made up for that. On Valentine's Day, he would buy both her and her mother a rose. At weddings, if asked when Annie would get married, he’d reply, ‘There’s no rush. Annie loves travelling the world; she has time before settling down with a family!'

You could never be bored with her father, Natale, around the house. The neighbours loved him; he was always helping others, doing the shopping and going to the chemist for the elderly; which was sweet considering his age.

One sad day, Natale was rushed into hospital with severe breathing problems. A day later, when he was stabalized, he couldn’t be persuaded to stay still. Against his family's wishes, he set about helping other patients in whatever way he could. In fact, he no longer considered his own serious reason for being there.

It had always been so merry and joyous in Annie’s household. Her father loved to tell jokes, which always had everyone in stitches for hours. His favourite pastime was announcing his guests' arrival by playing his beloved trumpet; and of course, causing lots of confusion. He was a real character and everyone loved the atmosphere when visiting.

This year it wouldn't be the same. Her father had sadly passed away, and wouldn't be present for their planned festivities. After only a month in hospital, they found he had water on the lungs, which had caused him to suffocate. During the last few days of his life, he was put into intensive care. Annie couldn’t bear to see all those tubes poking out from his frail body. It broke her heart to see him with an oxygen mask on his face. Shocked at how quickly everything had happened, she argued with God that it was much too soon for him to be taken, and prayed at the same time, that he would be granted a miracle.

Although he was almost eighty years old, he was still such a dynamic person. Annie and her brother, Robert, pleaded with the doctors to transfer him to a more specialized hospital, but their pleas were in vain. Their anger came to a head when the doctors replied “He’s eighty years old and has lived his life.” They couldn’t believe that from severe breathing problems, where there was hope for his survival, he was now reduced to this state through the hospital's negligence.

Annie sat in their house, staring at the bare walls, which for the first time, in all those years, were undecorated. Tears flowed down her cheeks, as she remembered her father's last words to her, “Don't cry Annie, I've lived my life and I consider myself a lucky man. I have a wonderful wife and two incredible children. What more could I have asked for?” She had hugged him, trying to hold back the tears welling up in her eyes; her throat going dry, as she searched for the right words, which wouldn't come out of her mouth. As she looked down at her father and held his hand, she knew he understood how she felt. Annie was his favourite, but strangely in his last days, he'd asked for Robert to feed him; maybe trying to show his need for his son too.

Annie's mum had not been to the hospital for a few days as she had flu, so Annie and Robert took turns to stay with their father. One evening when Annie was at his bedside, he asked for something to eat; he was hungry. Annie couldn’t believe this miracle. Her father seemed so well. She quickly asked a nurse for food and fed him. After a few mouthfuls, without warning, things changed for the worse. Her father started breathing heavily. He seemed to be gasping for breath. Annie dropped the plate she was holding, and ran out of the room to call a nurse. The nurse followed her back to his bedside, measured his temperature, then said to Annie, “Your father is dying. I thought you’d be prepared.” Annie felt so angry; she wanted to punch the nurse for her insensitivity. How could she be so disrespectful at a time like this? Didn’t she understand that she was losing her beloved father, and not just a number in a hospital bed?

Annie quickly called her mum and told her that her dad wasn't very well. She didn’t want to tell her how bad he was over the phone. She told her to ask their neighbour to give her a lift to the hospital.

At 8.30pm, December 21st, 1997, Natale passed away and left Annie sitting in that white room, on her own. She was devastated that her mum and brother arrived just a few minutes too late. They were both very sad that they didn’t get there in time to say goodbye.

This year the house felt so empty. No decorations, no Christmas tree, no laughing voices and no birthday cake; just silence.

Annie and her brother Robert had planned on giving their father a special birthday surprise on Christmas Eve; his birthday. Now all that was left was the memory of their wonderful father, and his name, Natale, which meant Christmas. Instead of celebrating his 80 years of life; his wisdom and quick wit, they celebrated the life he gave to them at his funeral mass on Christmas Eve.

On Christmas Day, all their lives had come to a standstill. Annie had to be strong for her family, though she was suffering inside. She welcomed her brother, who had recently separated from his wife, and his young son, Matt.

She would still cook Christmas dinner, but she knew it would be so difficult this year, and would never ever be the same again.



© Copyright 2004 AuntyNelly (anto at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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