This Christmas

Motherly Love.

Ivory.

After a relaxing and unexpected 2-day stay at Joy's parents', we were to return back to Quincy so we could finish up the semester, get finals over with amd get to break. Parting really was such sweet sorrow; they gave me the sense of family I had been missing. Joy practically had to drag me out of the house, and had said goodbye on both of our behalves.

'"You were stalling back there, and you know it." Joy stated, tossing me a scowl of disapproval and putting the car in 'Drive' almost as soon as we got in it. She had a piping hot mug of coffee in the cupholder next to her in preparation for the long drive home, and she pulled her hair back into a ponytail.

"Am not!" I protested indignantly.

"Yeah, you are, Ivory." She scoffed. "You can't possibly love my parents that much, and you haven't called anyone since you called Paris and it didn't go so well with her." When she saw my surprised expression, she said, "What, you thought I forgot?"

"No, I actually didn't, Joy." I snapped. "I was just trying to forget, myself. I'm starting to regret this," I confided. Honestly, at this point, I was regretting spending so much on that damned cabin or whatever, and I was wondering if it was too early to get my money back.

"Don't even think about backing out of this!" She screeched, pointing a finger at me. "I refuse to spend our first Christmas together with you moping over not seeing your family like we both know you wanna, and me feeling like shit because I can't do anything at that point but I could've prevented it."

She didn't realize how emotionally draining it was to corrall people together despite the fact that they seemingly wanted nothing to do with each other. She also didn't realize that I was scared of everyone rejecting the idea because of their own selfishness, and I wasn't prepared to deal with the very possible scenario of what would happen if I didn't get anyone to agree with coming. "I won't back out, Joy. I just need some time to prepare to call them, okay? Give me that. I'll do it when we get home."

She pulled my hand up to her lips, then kissed it. "Okay. I know it's hard. But I'll hold you to it, okay, babe? I'm not gonna let you give up." And it's true, since if it wasn't for her, I would've dropped out a long time ago when the pressure of trying to work to get my degree in Psychology got to me. But she believed in me when I didn't believe in me, and now I was back on the right track. The past said that it was wise to heed her advice, no matter how pushy she was in her delivery of it.

After taking my hand back from her, I pulled my blanket over my body and moved to where I was sitting comfortably. "I won't back out, Joy." I repeated before closing my eyes.

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Kimberly Gaines.

Times like this, I regretted retiring from work at such an early age. At only 50 years old, I called it quits at the hospital I'd been faithfully working for around two years my now ex-husband Isaac and I called it quits on paper. The going-away party was nice - the nurses showered me with childlike love, gift cards to expensive downtown bistros I liked, and had even took the liberty of bringing me a cake.

I can't say that the aftereffects of the divorce were as nice. Many members of Isaac's family who'd been as close as friends to me had vanished once the rings came off for good. I knew from the way they'd looked at me that my own children blamed me for the divorce, blamed me for breaking up our family. Like any good mother would, I sacrificed for my children - I've maintained one hundred percent of the blame without complaint for awhile, not bothering to correct them so that they can keep their idolized memories of their daddy in their minds. In their eyes, I've already done as much damage to the family as I could, so why make things worse by telling the truth?