The Last Christmas

December 1932: my last Christmas as a human and one that was bittersweet in more than one that was bittersweet in more than one way. As a child I always loved the holiday season; carolling, snowball fights with Nate and Alex, shopping with Mother and returning to log-lit fires and the sense of home. But this year I wasn’t just shopping for presents for my Brothers but trying to find that all important dress, as Royce had asked me to his parents annual Christmas Eve Ball and dinner.

Mother was more excited than I was for the occasion, putting my dress as the major shopping priority over gifts saying how I needed to look my best for Royce. It was actually when we were on a day trip to Manhattan that we found the dress, deep blue, like my eyes with silver sequin detail throughout. I had to admit it was stunning and I looked like a movie star, but there was no way my parents could afford it. But Mother was insistent, asking the sales girl to ring it up with matching gloves and a faux fur stole too. I stood in the store dumbfounded, I knew it was beyond anything they could afford, Mother assuring me it was fine and repeatedly saying that Royce would love it. As we went back into the cold Manhattan air I stood and stopped for a moment, my expression questioning my Mother, before she turned around,
“Rosalie Lillian, can you just be thankful for once in your life? No actually. Don’t thank me, thank Royce, you’ll see.” Before I could retort, she stormed off into the next store, silently indicating no more questions.

So the day of the Ball arrived, Christmas Eve, and I sat at my vanity doing my make-up, dabbing powder on my flawless skin. There was a knock on my door and I looked into the mirror to see Alex standing in my doorway. I turned smiling, nodding for him to come in and he ran and sat on my knee, at only ten Alex was still young enough for cuddles.
“Rosey”
“Hmmmm?”
“You look like a Princess” he murmured before kissing my cheek and jumping off my knee and ran back to listen to the Christmas radio broadcast with Nate.

At six o’clock there was a knock on our front door and I knew it was him, checking the faux flower in my hair one last time; I grabbed my purse and headed towards the stairs. I could hear Father and Royce talking about the Bank and then silence- which Royce broke,
“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet” , I remember blushing as he took my hand and kissed it, before leading me out towards his car, ready to be driven to the house. As I sat in the back seat with Royce, I can recall my hands twisting around from nerves, before he turned my cheek and kissed it.
“My Darling, why are you so nervous?” I frowned as he laughed, “They will all be so stunned by your beauty you won’t even have to engage in conversation with them.” And he was right, dinner was spent at the head table next to his parents, the only conversation about how good Royce and I looked together. After dinner we were led into his parent’s ballroom, which housed the most spectacular Christmas tree I had seen in my eighteen years of being. Delicate glass ornaments hung from every available branch and there was a huge stack of identical wrapped boxes below it. Royce boasted how at midnight each guest would open one- the contents being grand party favours from his parents. Being in that room you wouldn’t have believed there was a depression crippling the world outside, and for once I believed in the phrase ‘ignorance is bliss’.

I spent the night in Royce’s arms enjoying each and every dance and glass of champagne on offer- yes even under prohibition they somehow managed to have bottles of it in the house. Then at quarter to midnight we gathered around the Christmas tree singing carols, whilst housekeepers gave out the presents ready for the guests to open. As I went out to reach for one Royce held his hand up,
“I have something special for you my Dear”. The clock struck twelve, indicating Christmas Day and all the guests started to open their favours whilst Royce, his parents and I watched on. When they were finished his father announced that Royce had something to say, I stepped back to let him speak but he pulled me forward with him, introducing me to the elite of Rochester. Then he did something I never would have expected, he got down on one knee and pulled out a small box and proposed in front of everyone,
“Rosalie, over the past few months you’ve made me the happiest man on this planet. Your sheer beauty astounds me every day, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?” At the time it was all I ever wanted coming true, like my own Christmas fairytale, but who was to know of the reality that would occur a few months later...

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To Give Is Better Than To Recieve

“Giving is better than receiving because giving starts the receiving process.” Jim Rohn

One of the most vibrant memories from my human life is from when I was a little boy. I was eight at the time and all I wanted was a red wagon for Christmas. My father was a carpenter and my family was definitely not classified as the wealthy type. I wrote letters on letter to Santa asking for the red wagon.

Two weeks before Christmas I snuck downstairs in the middle of the night to hear my parents talking. Their raised voices alarmed me to the fact that they were arguing over something. I sat on a chair in the living room of our cabin as I listened to their whole conversation. My father was barely making enough money to keep us up more less to be able to buy any sort of presents this Christmas. I felt the pain in his voice when he told my mother that they would not be able to afford any gifts for me. She sobbed and said she would figure something out, that her little boy deserved at least one present under the tree.

I went back to my room that night before they realized I had been listening. As I crawled into bed the selfishness in me came out and I cried because would not be getting any presents. When I woke the next morning to my tear dried face I felt horrible because it hit me that neither of my parents would receive anything that Christmas as well. The following two weeks I worked creating them two simple gifts. At school I used the paint we had available and at home I hid the gifts in the woods so they would not find them. The day before Christmas I toted some paper out to the woods. It was not at all Christmas paper but regular paper that I had drew little candy canes on. Now that I think about it the candy canes looked more like messed up blobs of red fingers. I wrapped the two gifts and snuck them in my giant puffy coat to sneak them inside under my bed.

That night my mother helped me make chocolate chip cookies. I heard her whisper to my father that even though they could not give me anything she wanted to make Christmas seem a little normal. A hint of sadness crossed her face as she said those words and part of me got excited to give them there gifts. To maybe make her smile again. The night drew on and the happiness seemed to grow. I remember the smell of cookies overtook the little cabin and dad walked around singing Christmas Carols until it was my bedtime.

When they to tuck me in I was so excited that I couldn’t hold my surprise for them any longer. “Mom, Dad” I yelled. “I have presents for you guys and don’t want to wait till in the morning to give them to you. You’re the best parents a kid could ask for.” I reached for the paper wrapped gifts under the bed and handed them over and watched as they laughed at the paper. Slowly they unwrapped the two wood chipped, painted ornaments carved into the words mom and dad. A smile started to spread on my fathers face as my mom began to cry and I joked that she was not allowed to do that. They both thanked me and tucked me in again. Before my father left he made sure to tell me he loved me and even as a little kid knowing that I made them happy was the best gift ever.

When I awoke the next morning, I looked out the cabin window in my room and noticed the snow covered ground. The room was cold so I drug my cover off my bed and wrapped around me, knowing mom was probably going to get on to me for it. As I started to walk into the living room I already knew that there was not going to be any gifts for me but I was ok with that. To my surprise though when I entered the room a shiny red wagon sat under the tree. I dropped the blanket and ran to the wagon pulling it out. I could not believe my eyes and then it hit me. I noticed the wagon was made of wood and a familiar shade of red paint. It hit me then that my father had made this wagon and my mother had painted it. As I looked up into their eyes that was the answer I needed. I ran to give them a hug and told them I had the best parents ever. The rest of that day I played with the wagon, even at times with my dad. Sometimes the simple things are what makes you the happiest.

Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.

Under the foray that is my wedding planning brings back fond memories for me of my first wedding. Back then it was much simpler than latter weddings, perhaps due to the small size of our family at that point. It was the fall of 1936 and we had settled in the town of Hoquiam, Washington. The country was still feeling the aftermath of the depression and a solemn feeling hung in the air.

Emmett had been in our family a little over 18 months at that point in time and he had an effect on all of us, myself being the most obvious. He had pulled me somewhat from the dark depression that hungover me regarding my own change- his energy being oddly what I needed and me, being what he needed, someone to tell him when enough was enough. The speed of our courtship worried the rest of the family; he had been with us just over a year when he proposed on what would have been my 21st birthday. The ring was simple, compared to my first one but the thought and care from whom this one came from meant so much more to me than diamonds and jewels. As we were both still regarded as newborns, Emmett especially, we were told any wedding service would have to wait till he was ready to be around a priest or minister for a prolonged period. But not wanting to wait any longer than we had to, we came up with an idea a much more personal one, to ask Carlisle to marry us. That way the service would be exclusively family only, once we had his blessing and approval we began to prepare for a service in our home.

It was on a rare trip into town with Esme that I spotted the dress I wanted to become Mrs McCarty in; it was a simple gown, not lavished with pearls and finery, instead it consisted of white silk with a lace overlay and a simple pink sash around the waist. Going against the fashion of the time I decided to opt out of wearing a veil, instead choosing to wear a pair of vintage hair combs that had been in the window of the local pawn store. I had got my something old and something new sorted now for the wedding, and was just missing my something borrowed and something blue. These came courtesy of Esme, a pair of sapphire earrings to compliment my dress.

Soon the summer months of our engagement had passed into the rich warm colours of fall and the day of the wedding arrived. As I sat in front of the mirror, adjusting my simple up-do for the fourth time the realisation hit me. I was actually going to be married; it was no longer a fantasy in my mind. Foolish doubts began to fill my mind, nerves finally getting to me, what if I disappointed Emmett, what if my old insecurities returned? But before I could even scold my own stupidity there was a knock at the door to say the others were ready. Checking my appearance over for the last time I left the room, ready to become Mrs McCarty.

The service was simple, held in what was our living room at the time, Esme and Edward as witnesses and Carlisle marrying Emmett and I. As I descended the wooden staircase I was greeted by the sight of my Love in his best suit grinning up at me. I have could have blushed I would have been scarlet at this point, I joined him in front of Carlisle, taking his hand in mine. After exchanging our vows we exchanged rings, both deciding on simple gold bands before having our first kiss as man and wife. After pulling away from the kiss I remember smiling up at my Husband, yes Husband, I could finally say that, before Edward and Esme came to congratulate us. Our reception, if you could call it that was quaint, us sharing our first dance on the patio outside the house, the piano providing the music. I forgot about the rest of the family around us and focused solely on my Darling Emmett, knowing I’d found my forever.

The First Christmas

As I sit and write these words the memory of that Christmas comes back as if it happened just last week. It was Rose and I ‘s first Christmas together as a married couple, not long since my change. I was still new to the vampire ways and slipped up and made mistakes. It was two weeks before our Christmas when I slipped up and made one of these mistakes and caused the whole family to have to move. I felt terrible that they once again were having to redo their lives because of me. I especially felt bad for Rose, I knew she had become fond of the place we were living and having to move had upset her.

That Christmas Eve I was feeling down so I decided to have a talk with Carlisle about everything. Being the loving father he is, he offered me words of advice and reassured me that people make mistakes. He offered a hug and promised that him and Esme would love me no matter how many times I screwed up which resulted in a laugh from me. The protective side of Rose came out in me and I blurted out that maybe it would be better for Rose though if I left. That maybe her life would be easier if I was not around causing trouble for them an her. I spoke the words at the wrong time because Esme was walking in as I let the last word loose and she went all mother hen on me. She blocked the door and told me that it wouldn’t make anyone’s lives easier if I left especially not Rose’s. That she knew how Rose felt for me and no matter what would always be there by my side. Her words struck my hard as stone heart and I knew it was the truth. I apologized once again for the move and they both said no apologies were needed.

Christmas morning came and my angel was dressed in a Mrs. Clause outfit being all cheerful with me. We had exchanged gifts when I looked up and felt the urge to apologize to her for everything. I nearly had a few words out when she pressed her finger to my lips and said shush. “Emmett Dale McCarty you have nothing to apologize for. You are my husband and are always forgiven.” I knew then that our love could survive any hardship. At that time Rose was still letting me into her world and those few words were the best Christmas gift ever. The rest of the day we spent together and with the family. We actually listened to Christmas music and sat around listening to Edward play Oh Holy night on the piano. My first Christmas with my new family and it was the best. I cannot wait for this Christmas when we marry again.

My past

Finding out I was married and had a child before my change was one of the hardest things I have ever been through. The emotions crippled me. Don’t get me wrong I have the most amazing wife ever, Rose is my angel but to think I had a child before just blows me away. Its not that I regret Rose finding me and helping I just feel like a part of me is gone. The part of me that my son would have filled. I guess I could find comfort in knowing that I did have a child and loved him for the short week we had together and that he lived an amazing life.

In the midst of finding out about Levi and Ann-Marie I searched my brain trying to remember why I left them that day and was in the woods. Memories flashed before me of that day and the week before. Levi was only a week old, a newborn. He shared my curly blonde hair and had chubby cheeks. Had his mothers eyes and smile. I was exhausted and needed fresh air so I decided to go hunting and quick hike which landed me in the woods on that eventful day. Deep down inside me I want to feel angry at myself for leaving them that day and for not remembering them but I just cant be. My lifeless heart tells me that my destiny was not with them but was always meant for Rose.

I did some quick research the other day to find out more about my past. I found out that Ann-Marie and I had grown up together and was childhood friends. Her father and mine were close friends. We had waited till we were both 20 before getting married. Our love was supposedly what fairy tales were made of but honestly it was more of an we are comfortable together and just makes sense love not like what we and Rose have. We were married nearly a month before she became pregnant with Levi. I was an avid hunter and lovers of sports, something I have obviously held on to.

Stumbling upon something surprising though I discovered that I was religious person. I went to church when ever there was a function and lived my life by the ways of god. Born into a southern Baptist family it was all I ever knew. Actually I don’t even see why it surprises me that much. Even In the state that I am in now I have always still had a piece of me that believed in god. Believed that even we can be forgiven. Knowing this I would feel so much closer to who I am if me and Rose were to marry in a church this time around. That we commit eternity to each other in front of god cause only god knows how much I truly love Rose.