Letters to Major (4)

 Dear Major

It’s Christmas and I have two clichés stuck in my head: 1) Home is where the heart is; 2) Christmas is meant to be spent with family.

Number 1 you know my heart is with you. You may be with War, but my heart is with you. My love, I say this to bring you hope too – the hope you come back to me. Either by War finishing it’s dealings with you or by you realizing War is evil, poisonous and treacherous. Without meaning to sound like a broken record; come back home, please.

Now, number 2 is tricky. I am with my family but truth is, you’re my family too. After spending a few Christmas away from my family and welcomed into yours, I’m sure you must find me silly but (and I think you know this, I might have mentioned a couple of times) I have come to see your family as my own.

I can hear you mumble in your breath “Woman, you keep complaining you missed your family at Christmas”, but your family and your Christmas was the closest I had, in the last few years, to my definition of Christmas growing up; your large family and the stacks of presents on the tree is how I remember Christmas. Above all, I enjoyed how your family gathered and was united. I enjoyed your younger sisters and you smiling like children with your presents, I loved how we visited your cousins and their children (and my own little stack of chocolates… never enough chocolate right?)

My Christmas is only me and mum and grandparents. The witch spoils it further by saddening my brother and preventing him from being around. He hasn’t seen me yet and I am unsure he will… So, and adding my heart being with you, I don’t feel the joy of Christmas as much as I did when I spent it with your family. It’s different and I can only wish we get our families together at some point – wouldn’t it be grand?

I’m sorry, I know I am being selfish. You are away as it is… too far away, fighting a War I resolutely don’t think it’s yours; I don’t recognize you in it. Promise me you are warm and safe, as much as you can be, yes? And lets wish next year we are celebrating together once more.

Yours, always,

Alexandra

Ps. I spent all day cooking, chopping potatoes and fruit and making sweets. My wrist is a bit sore, apologies for the trembling handwriting. It’s delicious!