Dee's "coming back to me" is the only thing I really wanted for so many years. It was the thing for which I prayed most earnestly. It was the thing I could never ask for in words all those years when Dee would ask me what I wanted for Christmas. How could I have said, "You. What I really want is you as you were when we fell in love - before the kids were born - before your mom died," when all saying so would have done was segue into a fight?
I have it all right now. It hardly seems worth the effort to put up the lights and the tree and all the other trappings of the season because they can add nothing to me. I feel as if I live in one of those Thomas Kinkade paintings, bathed in light and perpetually sipping on a hot cup of tea which never runs empty. I might have all my clothes off, and my nude wife might be stepping into another man's arms for the evening, but that's a wonderful thing. All is calm. Christmas is all around me all of the time, while December 25th comes and goes. All is bright.
The only Santa I need.