by Donna Poole
Jasmine and Kate had been unusually close as toddlers, teens, twenty somethings, and they still were in their mid-seventies, but twins are often like that.
Steam from the dishwater fogged Jasmine’s glasses as she worked her way through the pile. The kitchen was a bit chilly when the wind blew from the east, and the hot dishwater felt good.
Kate curled both hands around the cup of coffee Jasmine had fixed for her. The steam from the delicious brew was clouding her glasses too. She pulled back a bit, looked at the cup, and laughed.
“Still have your Christmas cups out, I see.”
“Yes, and the tree is still up too. I suppose you took yours down the day after Christmas.”
“Wrong! We opened gifts early Christmas morning, and then the kids were all off to celebrate with their in-laws. I got busy and had the tree down and decorations put back in the attic by late afternoon.”
Jasmine pulled her hands from the sudsy water and turned to stare at her sister. “Kate! On Christmas Day! How could you! Did you put away your Christmas cups too, even the ones Mom gave us?”
Kate nodded. “Jasmine, you’re so sentimental. Out with the old, in with the new. The house looks so fresh and clean without the clutter. And I think I have too many Christmas mugs; no one uses them. We all use the disposable ones at family gatherings. I might just donate the cups to charity. So, when are you going to take down your tree? You’re getting quite a pile of needles on the floor there.”
Jasmine sighed. “If I had my way, I’d leave it up until February. I love to sit with my coffee in a Christmas cup, look at the tree, and try to remember every single minute of the holidays. They were especially beautiful this year.”
“That’s what you say every year.”
“Well, it’s true every year.”
“It looks the same in here every year, I’ll give you that. Don’t you ever want to do something different, like, oh, I don’t know, decorate with purple and black instead of red and green?”
Jasmine’s mouth dropped and Kate laughed.
“I’m kidding, but you know I’m right. You have a hard time with change. You bawled like a baby all over four college campuses when you left your kids there. And I bet you still cry when the kids and grandkids leave after family Christmas, don’t you?”
Jasmine pictured herself, standing in the driveway in the drizzling rain waving as the cars turned out of the driveway, leaving one by one. When she’d gone back inside, the moisture on her face hadn’t been all from the rain.
Kate sat down her coffee and hugged her sister. “It’s okay. I love you just like you are. I know you don’t really wish the kids were all little and home again. You’re as happy for them as adults as I am for mine. You do seem especially nostalgic this year though. What gives?”
Jasmine wiped away a tear. “It’s been a good year, hasn’t it Kate? And we don’t know what sorrows next year might bring. We already heard about a sweet friend going on Hospice. And our own health isn’t so good either, and…”
Kate pulled her closer and patted her back. “I know, honey. I know. But remember what we said to each other on Christmas Day? We’ve seen a Great Light, and it will grow brighter and brighter all the way Home! We can trust God to take care of us and the people we love. And you know perfectly well, not putting away those Christmas cups isn’t going to help you hang on to what’s beautiful now. Ready or not, the future is coming for us with is sorrows and its joys. Remember, God is already there!”
Jasmine laughed and hugged her sister. “You’re right, as usual. What would I do without you?”
“You’d be a mess.”
Jasmine laughed again and returned to the dishes.
John came into the kitchen. “Sorry, Donna, I found some more dishes. And are you talking to yourself again?
“Just listening to Jasmine and Kate.”
“Oh, is that a podcast or something?”
“Or something.”
“You aren’t crying, are you?”
“Not anymore. Hey, what do you think about leaving the Christmas tree up until February?”
She looked at his face and laughed. “That’s what I thought. “Well, can we keep the Christmas cups out awhile longer?”
“That we can do.”
She went to work on the new pile of dishes John had brought her and looked out the window. The clouds parted and sun poured in, flooding the kitchen with light, sparkling off the bubbles in the dishwater, and making new dreams.
