Christmas in Strasbourg

I nearly tripped over a big present placed by my bedroom door when I woke up two days ago. I didn’t open it. Why give me a present when you don’t even have the decency to treat me, let alone speak to me, like a normal human being throughout the year? Is this one present supposed to make all those bad vibes, all the mess and temperaments go all away? I closed the door of my house behind me. The air was fresh, cold, and free.

The frozen forest floor and creeks rolled by, and trees were sprinkled with fine powders of white. The train chugged through the mountains, sometimes slow, sometimes speeding along passed quaint little villages and valleys in the picturesque landscape of northern Europe, toward Strasbourg, toward my home for the next few days.

It wasn’t a smooth journey to start with. When transferring in Brussels, someone took my a piece of my luggage ‘without asking’. A few days ago a friend of mine got robbed of everything in Belgium too, and I had promised myself to be more careful. But alas! It was the biggest and most beautiful one, all wrapped up and shining in green paper, with colourful butterflies and ribbons. Inside was a toy for baby Sunny, a play-mat the baby can lie on and exercise his hands and fingers on the rattling puppets and balls that are suspended in mid-air. I was upset for a few moments, wondering what bad things are coming my way. Once I settled into my seat, my mind settled too. Maybe I deserved this bad karma, for the way I reacted to the good-intentions of my brother earlier in the morning. Besides, someone, somewhere will be happy…

It’s been more than six months since I was last here. And how baby Sunny has grown! Before he couldn’t even sit up, and his neck wasn’t stiff enough to support his head. The moment I entered, his mum greeted me with Sunny in her arms. He was a little bedazzled, perhaps shocked to feel the cold cheeks of this stranger who had just walked through the door, and entered his world. Yet soon, as I held him in my arms, in his eyes was a look as if he knows me, as if he remembers. Those two months before, and after, his birth were worth it. Later I heard from his mum that whenever strangers hold him, Sunny would start crying and kicking. But in my arms he was quiet, still… and warmed me.

I’ve been playing and lying around him a lot in the past few days, admiring him, teasing him, adoring him, while reconnecting with his mum. He likes to flap his arms around, to feel and put anything and everything into his mouth. Somehow he has this fascination with my watch, and it tickles whenever he’s little hands and little fingers latch and fumble around my wrist. He likes to poke, to scratch and grab. “Aslon… Aslon…”, you call, and he answers by turning to look at you, with deep innocent eyes. He can’t walk yet, but if you hold him by the arms, he can just about stand. His legs would kick and try to stand up straight, before his wobbly knees send his chubby little body jiggling and wriggling in a baby dance.

He can already babble, gargle, and giggle. When you pull faces at him, he smiles and laughs and sometimes even rewards you with a show of support by clapping his hands and feet together. His laugh can melt your heart, make you smile and forget the troubles of the world. An adorable little being, full of life, full of love, and so much more. Sometimes he’d clamber onto my chest, flap around a bit, stare into my eyes, and mumble before falling asleep. I’d close eyes too, close my arms around him, and dream. The soft, warm feel of his breathing so very soothing.

My friend has had it rough in the last few months, having to juggle studies with a baby, but despite the dark rings around her eyes from the lack of sleep, I’m glad she and Sunny have managed to do so well, together. She kept on thanking me, saying how she and Sunny couldn’t have made it without me. But I just smile, and blush. I did what I could, and nothing more.

Christmas day we went to a friends place for lunch. There was so much food, and wonderful wine, and tonnes of chocolates and local delicacies to be had. A decorated tree stood in the corner, its base brimming with gifts. Two little boxes, and an oil painting, were for me. My friend had done a beautiful portrait of my sweet cat. Carefully I opened one of the little boxes, to reveal a sleeping angel, its face tranquil, serene and peaceful.

“That’s you, Dave. You’re our angel.” I smiled and blushed, and felt my insides swell with indescribable feelings. For a moment it was as if I could feel the tears, too, swell.

The next box came as an even bigger surprise. Under soft, satin cloth was a glistening expensive watch. Speechless, I was, and wondered what I ever did to deserve such a precious gift, and so much more from my friend.

In return, I gave her what little I could afford.

A hug.