‹ Prequel: Warmness on the Soul
The Way You Look Tonight
Grief
Christmas at the Reynolds’ house was a quiet affair that year. The table was laden with every food imaginable, a turkey the size of Texas, sprouts, roast potatoes, pigs in kilts, and every vegetable known to man. Grace’s mother made her signature Christmas pudding, the recipe given to her by her mother and there was a trifle for Liam.
Grace got up the same time every year, except this one. She didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to face life. But this wasn’t only her Christmas, and it wasn’t only her grief. She wasn’t the only one mourning and she’d be selfish to think so.
Kevin Reynolds’ heart gave up after being hit with it’s second major heart attack. He’d been hiding the stress he’d been under due to work and getting everything perfect for the festive season from everyone. He had put his heart and soul in finding a custom, limited edition Gibson Les Paul for his daughter, who opened it on Christmas Day and burst into tears, her dad always knew what to buy her.
The guitar was in ‘Faded Cherry Sunburst’, both the body and the neck were made of mahogany. The pick up mounting rings and the pick-guard were real wood and it was beautiful. It was similar to her dad’s Les Paul, he used to play old blues and rock ‘n’ roll songs to her as a child.
She couldn’t bring herself to play it for that very reason. Her memories, were just that; memories. He would never sit and jam with her again.
Her father’s funeral would be held two days after Christmas. Grace couldn’t think about that, she couldn’t think that far ahead, she had to get through the day first.
Everyone moped, it was inevitable really, he was their dad, he always made Christmas special. Their mother tried, but was under a lot of strain and in the end up, everyone felt like they were walking on eggshells being around her.
They opened their gifts and thanked each other, each thinking ‘what now?’ staring at the walls, and occasionally the TV.
Her mother was the first to break down.
Fran disappeared to put the veggies on and never came back through, Grace went in to check on her and found her slumped on the ground with her back against the cupboard, mascara everywhere, and one solitary tear rolling down her cheek.
She wiped it away, “I can’t cry anymore Gracie.”
“Mom you have to grieve, we all do-” Grace sat down beside her mother and looked at her downcast expression.
“- Grace, I mean I really can’t, there are no more tears. Did you ever here the old wives tale about tears?” she rambled as if in a trance.
“No, mom, I haven’t,” Grace sniffed, looking at her mother with sympathy filled green, diamond flecked orbs.
“It’s said that everyone is born with a certain number of tears, and once you cry them all out, that’s it, you can’t cry tears anymore. I think I’m there Grace. I think I’ve cried my lifetime’s supply of tears in the last few days.”
Grace looked at her mother with a strange sort of expression, it was almost pity. She was about to say something when Kevin burst in.
“Mom? What’s on fire?” he asked panicked. Grace hadn’t noticed it before, but the room had slowly began to fill up with smoke, no one had been keeping an eye on the food.
Fran sighed. Then she did something peculiar, something no-one expected her to do she burst out laughing. It wasn’t just a gentle chuckle, it was full blown hysterical laughter, and her children couldn’t help but join in.
She calmed down, “Your dad would be proud, he burnt a few Christmas dinners in his time.”
They calmed down and managed to call in Chinese food as none of what her mother had slaved over was edible.
The Reynolds family spent their Christmas Day remembering past ones with their dad, the way he insisted on videoing most of it, how he would try to insist on cooking even though he could burn a salad. Most of all, they remembered how much love radiated off him, watching his family open the gifts he had picked out specially.
Finally her mother turned to Grace, “You know what Grace? Your dad would have hated to have seen us moping earlier on especially on a day like today, we have to take what life gives us with a pinch of salt and hope for the best. Take the bull by the horns and do what you think is right.”
“Yeah, you’re right, mom.” she smiled, wrapping her arm around her mom’s shoulder, all the while the cogs in her brain concocting a near full proof plan to get away.
“I think we’re going to be ok Gracie, I really do.”
Grace got up the same time every year, except this one. She didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to face life. But this wasn’t only her Christmas, and it wasn’t only her grief. She wasn’t the only one mourning and she’d be selfish to think so.
Kevin Reynolds’ heart gave up after being hit with it’s second major heart attack. He’d been hiding the stress he’d been under due to work and getting everything perfect for the festive season from everyone. He had put his heart and soul in finding a custom, limited edition Gibson Les Paul for his daughter, who opened it on Christmas Day and burst into tears, her dad always knew what to buy her.
The guitar was in ‘Faded Cherry Sunburst’, both the body and the neck were made of mahogany. The pick up mounting rings and the pick-guard were real wood and it was beautiful. It was similar to her dad’s Les Paul, he used to play old blues and rock ‘n’ roll songs to her as a child.
She couldn’t bring herself to play it for that very reason. Her memories, were just that; memories. He would never sit and jam with her again.
Her father’s funeral would be held two days after Christmas. Grace couldn’t think about that, she couldn’t think that far ahead, she had to get through the day first.
Everyone moped, it was inevitable really, he was their dad, he always made Christmas special. Their mother tried, but was under a lot of strain and in the end up, everyone felt like they were walking on eggshells being around her.
They opened their gifts and thanked each other, each thinking ‘what now?’ staring at the walls, and occasionally the TV.
Her mother was the first to break down.
Fran disappeared to put the veggies on and never came back through, Grace went in to check on her and found her slumped on the ground with her back against the cupboard, mascara everywhere, and one solitary tear rolling down her cheek.
She wiped it away, “I can’t cry anymore Gracie.”
“Mom you have to grieve, we all do-” Grace sat down beside her mother and looked at her downcast expression.
“- Grace, I mean I really can’t, there are no more tears. Did you ever here the old wives tale about tears?” she rambled as if in a trance.
“No, mom, I haven’t,” Grace sniffed, looking at her mother with sympathy filled green, diamond flecked orbs.
“It’s said that everyone is born with a certain number of tears, and once you cry them all out, that’s it, you can’t cry tears anymore. I think I’m there Grace. I think I’ve cried my lifetime’s supply of tears in the last few days.”
Grace looked at her mother with a strange sort of expression, it was almost pity. She was about to say something when Kevin burst in.
“Mom? What’s on fire?” he asked panicked. Grace hadn’t noticed it before, but the room had slowly began to fill up with smoke, no one had been keeping an eye on the food.
Fran sighed. Then she did something peculiar, something no-one expected her to do she burst out laughing. It wasn’t just a gentle chuckle, it was full blown hysterical laughter, and her children couldn’t help but join in.
She calmed down, “Your dad would be proud, he burnt a few Christmas dinners in his time.”
They calmed down and managed to call in Chinese food as none of what her mother had slaved over was edible.
The Reynolds family spent their Christmas Day remembering past ones with their dad, the way he insisted on videoing most of it, how he would try to insist on cooking even though he could burn a salad. Most of all, they remembered how much love radiated off him, watching his family open the gifts he had picked out specially.
Finally her mother turned to Grace, “You know what Grace? Your dad would have hated to have seen us moping earlier on especially on a day like today, we have to take what life gives us with a pinch of salt and hope for the best. Take the bull by the horns and do what you think is right.”
“Yeah, you’re right, mom.” she smiled, wrapping her arm around her mom’s shoulder, all the while the cogs in her brain concocting a near full proof plan to get away.
“I think we’re going to be ok Gracie, I really do.”