My Lover's Candle
A widow spends her first Christmas alone until she finds her late husband's present.
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The snow floated down to the earth like feathers in the wind. Once they joined the rest of their brothers and sisters on the ground, they immediately turned invisible. The branches on the trees shook every time Father Sky exhaled, with the brown leaves breaking free as they flew in the air. The moon shone radiantly in the dark sky, making the snow appear to be fallen crystals from heaven. With no one around to disturb Mother Nature in her winter form, it was a beautiful midnight paradise.
I let out a heavy sigh as I stared into the night. I could see the neighbor's lights sparkling in the distance, making them the only bright colors to occupy the white and black atomsphere. While I felt the calm serenity of the environment, I couldn’t help but feel sorrow choking my throat.
I recalled the times when he and I would sit in this very spot, warming our toes next to the fire, all wrapped up in our favorite blanket as we gazed outside at the beauty of our home. He would always lean close to embrace me with the reminder of his love to me, with me doing the same. There would be some nights we just fell asleep since we were too comfortable to get out of our couch. I smiled at the memory as I wiped away tears from my eyes.
This had always been his favorite time of the year. Now that he’s gone, it feels empty and hollow, very much how my heart has been feeling for the past few weeks. It would’ve turned to stone if it weren’t for the love of my children and grandchildren. Their love is all I have now. They’ve done all that they could, for which I’m grateful. However, it’s just not the same without him.
I found myself glaring over to my decorative tree with glossy eyes, where a small box wrapped in red with a golden bow stood below. He gave that to me before he died, like he knew he wouldn’t make it before the big day. Flashbacks of him on his final day who, despite looking like a sick corpse, had the eyes of a child, still full of life and wonder as he gave me his present. I remember feeling bad as I had nothing to give him but he assured me that my love for him along with the kids was the perfect gift he could ever want. My eyes couldn’t hold the tears anymore as I recalled hugging him before I felt his last breath in my ear. Staring at the box, I knew he would want me to open it on this very day. We made it our tradition to open at least one gift on Christmas Eve and ironically enough, this year was my turn to open a present from him.
After drying my eyes and nose, I picked up the box and set it on the dining table. I took a deep breath and began to unwrap it. Once I pulled apart the wallpaper and ripped open the box, inside was a candle scented with cinnamon.
I couldn’t help but smile. He knew how much I loved candles. Just something about their tiny flames dancing on top of their vertical stage while giving out a beautiful fragrance has always captivated me. It was even better that he got me my favorite spice as well. There’s not a day where I would drench my coffee and any kind of dessert with cinnamon. He would always call me crazy for having such an addiction. Then again, they don’t call me the cinnamon queen for nothing.
Setting the candle in the middle of the table right inside a small wreath, I went into the kitchen to grab a box full of matches. I immediately began lighting one as I made my way back to the dining room. The match exploded with life before shrinking to a small flame. Taking the lite, tiny cardboard, I brought it over to the wick of the candle. By the time I merged them together, the candle immediately lit up like it was a firework.
At first, I was taken aback by the large flame until I saw something within the fire. As I squinted my eyes and got a little closer, I realized that it was a face. And it was a face I immediately recognized.
I gasped as I felt the box of matches fall from my hand. I was so shocked to see my beloved in the candle’s flame that I just stood there with my hand over my mouth, my entire body paralyzed with confusion and fear.
While I was shaking all over, he was as serene as the waves on the ocean on a bright, sunny day. He looked younger than the last time I saw him, but his eyes were still full of life and wonder just as it had before. Seeing that this supposed ghost meant no harm, I began to calm down, feeling every muscle in my body loosened from fear’s tightened grip. As I said his name, he smiled and said these words in a faint whisper.
The world may seem a scary place,
full of anger and hate.
With all that to carry,
it seems like a heavy weight.
I may no longer be with you,
to keep you safe and hold you close,
light your way in the darkest of days,
and preserve my precious rose.
But know this always,
nothing will detain me from your love,
not even the supernatural chains
from down below or above.
I will be with you forever,
no matter how alone you are.
Until the day we are reunited,
Keep the candle burning, my radiant star.
The fire returned to its candle-like shape as his face vanished like smoke in the wind. At first, I tried to comprehend what just happened. The man I loved somehow came back from the dead through a candle’s flame. Just the mere thought of it seems impossible! And yet, I felt a strange sort of tranquility begin to fill me, a feeling I haven’t felt in a long time.
It has always been his personal tradition to write poetry to me. The first time he started doing it was on our honeymoon. I remember always feeling warm and cozy whenever he read his verses, making the butterflies in my stomach flutter like crazy. And it was the same sensation I was feeling now.
Even if what I just witnessed wasn’t possible, seeing my husband’s spirit alive and well gave me such relief that I collapsed on the floor. Tears spilled from my eyes as I found myself laughing. It was just a few days ago that I wished for a way to see my love one last time, even if it was just for a moment. In a strange way, my wish came true tonight of all nights.
Looking up to the ceiling with wet eyes filled with happiness, I muttered, “Thank you.” Then taking the lit candle, I walked back to the couch near the window and set it next to me on a nearby side table. Once I made sure the front was facing forward, I sat down and turned my gaze outside. I could feel the warmth of the candle enveloping me, like his arms wrapping around me.
I let out a soft sigh, feeling the weight of my sadness fade away as it was replaced with peace. For what seemed like forever, I could sense the magic of Christmas in the air again, causing me to smile. I leaned back on my couch as I stared into the winter night with his candle right beside me, just like old times.
About the Creator
R. N. M. Haubrock
Reanne Nicole Mackenzie Haubrock was born and raised in Arizona. She's an autistic young woman with a love for reading and writing. She currently resides with her family on their farm as she blogs for fun and writes new exciting stories.
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