A Pig and Chocolate

Christmas Eve had arrived and we were going home to Mother's apartment. Grandmother was going to be with other family, so it was just the boys, me and mother. I waited anxiously for Mother to arrive and when the taxi pulled up, I squealed with joy. Mother had already picked up the boys and we were ready to go and have a family Christmas. I grinned as I got into the taxi because I felt like Santa Clause with the gifts I had for my them. As we rode along the freeway to the apartment, I chattered without stopping. I had so much to tell Mother, as I wanted her to know what I had been doing since last I saw her. Kenny kept grabbing at the bag I held, asking which present was for him. George was trying to act cool, but he too, was happy to be going home for awhile. Finally we pulled up to the apartment building. It had three levels, with 4 apartments on each level. Mother lived on the second floor, and each step upward brought back happy memories. I didn't have time to think about it then, but later I questioned why I thought I had been so unhappy here. Familiarity surrounded me as we walked into the door. The sofa was in the same place, as well as the kitchen table and Mother's bedroom. Walking into the kitchen, I took a moment to soak in the feelings of life lived here in the past. I remembered the time that the exterminator came to get rid of ants, and killed the lizard that I had been raising for a pet. He thought it was a pest, as I was raising it in a box in the kitchen window. He thought it had just come in, and we would not want to come home to a lizard in the kitchen. Looking at the sink, I remembered the time that George inflated a rubber glove and tied it to the drain, then, filled up the sink making the glove look like someone's hand was reaching out for help. It really scared me, I truly thought that somehow, someone had gotten stuck in the sink! I enjoyed the feelings that came back to me as I remembered all the meals that grandmother had made in this kitchen, and how many times she would say that she was making a picnic for dinner. I didn't know it at the time, but a "picnic" is a southern term for a pork shoulder. I always wondered why we had a pork roast instead of eating outside each time she said she had fixed a picnic for dinner. Walking back into the living room, I found the TV in the same place and the little rocking loveseat in front of it. I knew that we would watch Christmas movies from that loveseat, just as we had watched movies over Thanksgiving weekend. Best of all, there was a little Christmas tree set up in the corner. It was lovely with glass ornaments and tinsel. Mother was always so good at decorating a tree or turkey or whatever the occasion merited. Looking under the tree, I saw that it was bare of presents, but I wasn't worried, Santa always came and we would have to wait until Christmas morning to see what bounties would appear. I placed my gifts under the tree with an admonition to the boys to leave them alone. I was so happy that I had been able to give those gift, and of course, the special one to mother. The rest of the day passed slowly, as we knew that Christmas was the next day. That evening, on Christmas Eve, mother took us in a taxi to see the lights that gleamed in the winter chill on the houses nearby. This neighborhood had at one time been victorian mansions, but had been converted into apartments. Nearby the apartments, some of the large houses were still single family dwellings, and were brilliantly displayed with the spirit of the season. It was so thrilling to see the beautiful homes alight with color, and my heart raced with happiness that I could share such a sight with Mother and the boys. After arriving back at the apartment, Mother set out cups of hot chocolate and some cookies. We read the Night Before Christmas to Kenny, but he was almost asleep over his hot chocolate. Mother took him to her bed and lay down with him. How she must have missed her baby after so long. How hard it must have been for her to be away from him. I prayed that night, as I did every night, that we could be a family again. I wanted that for Mother. I fell asleep on the sofa, and woke early to find that Santa had indeed come and left gifts. Kenny was still asleep, and George was snoring on the floor on a blanket. I took advantage of the quiet to reflect on my situation, and decided that I had been ungrateful to be angry at Mother for what I thought had been hardships in my life. I vowed to be better and more understanding. Although I was a 13 year-old teenager, I was gripped with excitement when I saw a few gifts under the tree for me. I had to wait for the family to wake, but it was so hard. I thought that I would start breakfast, and maybe the smell would wake them up. Before I could start to cook, Kenny came shouting into the living room that Santa had come! I had to hold him back before he tore open the wrong gifts, and sitting him down in front of the tree, handed his gifts to him. Mother walked out of her room with a sleepy grin, and sat down on the floor next to Kenny. George and I sat down across from them, and I began to hand out the presents. Kenny got typical toys for a 6 year old boy, taking great joy in the discovery of each one. George and I got some clothes and other items, but one gift in particular amazed me. I opened the largest box last, and reached into it to feel something soft and resiliant. Peeking out at me was something pink. Gripping the mystery, I pulled out a soft, fluffy stuffed pink pig! A perfect pink, stuffed pig. I hugged that pig to my heart and looked at Mother with questions in my eyes. I asked her how she had known that I wanted a stuffed pig to put on my bed, and she told me that I had mentioned it shortly after going into the home. I did not remember that, but she did, and it meant so much to me to have something to keep close to me at night to think of Mother. I don't think she knew how special this gift was. Then, I remembered that when I first went into the home, I noticed the stuffed animal on the other bed in my new room, and vowed to have one of my own someday. More specifically, I wanted a stuffed pig as I love pigs so much. Once again, I was touched at Mother's thoughtfullness. Finally, after all the other gifts were opened, I gave the family the gifts from me. Kenny ripped the paper and tossed his frog into the air. He squealed with delight as he caught it and jumped up to hug me. George was more manly as he opened his after shave, but I could tell that he liked it. Last of all, I gave Mother her gift. She carefully unwrapped the box and took it out, looking at it with puzzlement. The cowgirl grinned at her from beneath the cellophane, and Mother turned the box over to try to decide what was in it. "Open it!" I said with excitement. I held my breath as I awaited the gushing joy that I knew would burst from Mother as soon as she saw the contents. Unwrapping the outer cellophane, Mother took her forefinger and clicked open the little brass latch that held the cedar box shut. There, before her eyes, was the assortment of chocolate bliss that I knew would thrill her. "Candy?" she questioned. "This candy is for me?" I gushed, "Yes! It is! I knew you would love it!" And then, I saw it. The look that spoke volumns. Although she tried, Mother could not hide her aversion to a box of chocolates. How could I have known that she would not love chocolate as much as I did? Schooling her features, Mother told me that she loved her gift and after the candy was gone she would keep something special in the little cedar box. I hid my disappointment at my failure to please her. It seemed that I could do nothing right. Mother hugged me and told me thank you again, and then arranged the chocolates on a little plate so that we could all share them. I didn't buy them to share them! I bought them for her! I hated those chocolates. I wanted to smash them. They represented yet another failure on my part. Damn chocolates! Kenny wasted no time in helping himself to the candy, and I thought that at least someone enjoyed it. Then, once again, I saw my precious pig. Once again, I thought how much Mother loved me because she remembered that I wanted a stuffed pig. So what if she didn't want my candy. She loved me, that pig proved it. I felt ashamed inside that I had gotten angry at her reaction to my gift. I felt that I should try to understand her more. Maybe I was the one that wanted a box of chocolates, and thought that everyone felt the same way. It was a lesson in life, that box of chocolates, teaching me that like my Mother, perhaps I should take more time in deciding what someone would really like. I walked over and picked up the pig, giving it a big hug and then walked to the plate of chocolates and popped one in my mouth. A pig and chocolate. Merry Christmas to me!