Morning Glory

Grandchildren Duties

The true meaning of Christmas is not in the gifts we receive, nor in the beautiful decorations and not even in the table full of our favourite dishes. The true meaning of Christmas is Family, whether we like them or not.

Even if we manage to avoid our families through the whole year, Christmas comes and you’re back in church, dressed up, listening to your grandmother. Most kids don’t want to spend their Christmas break going from one grandparent to the other. But especially not, when you’re young, in-love, and had just gotten a new boyfriend.

Mamma Adela

Before the Rosso family moved up the hill, they lived by the town’s church with their Mamma Adela. Like most other homes in Tilia, the church’s house was blessed with a large garden, lying far behind the house, filled with trees that would grow proud hairs of fruits during the summer.

The house on the other hand was less blessed. At the very least, in the context of Grandmother, Parents and kids all under the same old roof. Some sleeping with the parents, Abigail alone with the old, dark, noisy hearth keeping her up in fear.

-My favorite grandchildren!-opened the door Adela, and started counting the kids flowing in.

-Smartgrandkid, Goldenhair, and Veronika.

The Rosso kids entered the house that once was their ever-hated home. Abigail was sad, that she wasn’t the smart grandkid and her hair was blunt brown anyway, Veronika was angry that she was the only one without a nickname, Rudy headed towards the table and started exploring the baked goods.

Doeria and her father were already there sitting by the window. Doeria seemed zoned out, her dark hair in an elegant ponytail, tilted slightly to the right as if it was done by someone with little experience. When she noticed her cousins entering she quickly smiled and gave an excited wave towards Veronika. The grumpy girl ran over to her cousin, gave her half a hug and the two bonded over their own sides of the family troubles.

Since moving back from her cousins, Doeria’s life had not been easy. The family, now just her and her father Baron, lived in Mamma Adela’s garden cottage at the back of the yard. One room, kitchen. No bathroom. She missed the Rosso house in all honesty, with all it’s chaos and drama.

Sylvia Rosso flew furthest from the mother’s nest, all the way to the other side of the tracks, into one of the farmhouses at the end of Tilia. She arrived with her Husband Alrik. The war hero. He was the worst of them all.

When they stepped in the room Abigail suddenly remembered the old hearth and her scary nights alone. Every Christmas when Ralph wasn’t in a bad mood he was the most charming man there ever was. He was confident, talkative with an endearing silliness that reminded Aurelia why she fell in love with him. She would quickly start gossiping and drinking with Sylvia, who, this time, matched her porcelain skin with dark red curls. After enough festive cheering, they danced and their laughs came easier too.

The tall grumpy looking, but ever friendly Uncle Baron, who the kids just called Gappa, due to his Godfather status, had an interesting conversation with his nephew Rudy who seemed to be a whole man by now and found his place in every group.

Mama Adela was quiet. She always was, since her husband left her for the othet woman and moved south. Not as if that could break her, nothing could. She wanted to be so strong she could survive wherever, all on her own. Only she didn’t realize, when you’re alone in survival mode in your mind all the time, you soon end up alone in survival mode in the real world too.

Sierrana’s

Visiting Rosa’s family was more of a summer holiday than a Christmas dinner. She was from a small village from the very south named Sierrana where her family scattered all over. Felix and Eric often spent weeks there during the summer.

Once you visited one of them, an endless sea of relatives emerged all waiting for you with a homemade meal and a bed set up already in case you wanted to stay over.

Felix adored the city, but the small town of Sierrana held a special place in his heart. His weeks here were like small breaks from life. Time stood still, his parents couldn’t reach him to check in on him, and he had a whole scenery to explore as recklessly as he wishes. He knew that whatever door he would knock on, most likely he’d found an forgotten family member, but at the very least would make new friends.

Valegrannies

The closest town to Tilia was about twenty minutes from crossing the tracks. The fields turned into valleys and hills with rich grass and storks nesting. Verbena had everything to offer for the people who wished for a glimpse of the chatter of life. On the south a wide river cradled it from the very end of the capital. Which provided a sunny and social coast during the summer. The centre had a mall and a variety of lovely stores and bakeries. And at the north-west end of it, you could almost start climbing the incredible Birch Mountains that bordered the whole land, or at least look at the scenery of it.

Aurelia’s parents lived right on the way, there. In, one of the many, fairytale-like one street villages that covered the hills. Driving through the sunlit grassy hills, with more and more mystical villages popping up in the valleys it felt like a sea of unexplored worlds. And to the right, up the hill, one street called Verbenavale. You couldn’t help but feel at home, even if you’d never been there in your life.

Brick roads, trees covering the side. Old brown fences with Marigold plants hanging out from under and grandmas gossiping on the street. One of these gossiping nannies just so happened to be Veronika’s favorite of nannies; Idia Foxglove.

Idia has always been quiet, diligent and kind. She liked to take Veronika around the garden, show her the chickens and the vegetables growing. Her husband Mikael was by her side since forever and they found love in each other’s silence.

Stepping into the home, their humble kitchen was decorated with warm orange tiles, porcelain plaques and a picture of the pope. Their oldest son and youngest daughter didn’t come by often. But Aurelia and her sister Moira would visit from time to time, Moira bringing her daughter and Aurelia bringing the Rosso kids, who would dream warm thoughts under the well-known brown and yellow fuzzy blanket that covered their grandmother’s couch.

Fabian Zevean

Fabian Zevean sat straight in his leather armchair. Looking out the window, sipping earl gray. Combed hair, dressed elegant like always, his leg calmly resting on his knee. His mind wandered… but then the bell rang. He sighed, His right feet carefully wrapped in a black sock, slowly joined his left on the cold walnut flooring. He stood up and walked towards the door, his fuzzy slippers protecting his weathered feet.

He pulled the silver chain out the door, he should leave it there he’ll be back here soon, and opened up. His son’s children flowed inside like a wave of energy. Mira, Elan and…all the other ones. Lion let himself in, closed the door and immediately started talking to his father then quickly got interrupted by a firm knock.

Fabian turned back and opened the door again. At first glance, as if he saw his own young self…

-Frankie! Were you waiting in the corner for me to close the door?

-Merry Christmas Lion.-Frank walked in, taking his brother’s joke as an invitation to enter. The gentle and elegant Rosa by his side; carrying the Christmas meal, and some baked goods.

Fabian remembered for sure, that his second son had 3 children, however looking down he only saw two of the little black haired children, touched by their mother’s colours. But Felix… although joking and grunting like always, looked like a man. He wore a shirt, talked with refinement and shook his hand with empathetic confidence.

Fabian closed the door behind them and took his way towards his chair. Rosa has found her way to the kitchen and with Felix’s assistance turned his humble table into the sacred place of festive celebration. This, however, was already under destruction by Lion, who poured his words into his brother’s tired ears.

Knock again.

Fabian turned around, but in the meantime the guest behind the door had already decided to open up themselves. He looked at his daughter entering with her vibrant hair, outbursting energy and two boys.

-Rory!-Lion popped up-Did you not bring Bam?

-Well, he didn’t fit in the car.

-How so?

-I wanted to bring my boyfriend.

Lion and Frank both took a good look at the skinny guy with weird glasses standing next to Rory with unease.

-Where did you get him from?-asked Frank.

This quickly sparked a quarrel and into a mission to find the missing son, Bam.

Fabian in the meantime returned to his chair by the window. He took a sip from his tea, it’s gotten cold but he didn’t mind. Then gently placed his left feet, carefully wrapped in a brown sock, on his right knee.

He looked at the clouds and let his thoughts tune out the noise of the house.

My dear…

-It’s okay! Bam is here!-Rory took place of the room.

Bam was here. Fabian sipped another of his cold Earl Grey while his family all scattered in and settled down around the tree. Fabian placed both his feet on the ground. Hm, he mismatched his socks. Too late to worry about that now. He stood up and started walking across the room. On his left a group of girls, probably all Lion’s. No, there’s actually the cheeky black-haired girl. Looks just like her mother, no wonder Frank loves her so much. To his right talented men, and extraordinary women. And Rory’s current boyfriend was there too. At the other side of the room, under the tree another group of kids. Felix and Cael silently laughing between themselves, Eric and Lions boys looking at the presents. He walked up to the big cupboard where a picture sat. A picture that easily could have become a sad dark picture. It was the sad and dark day of the funeral of his dear Rhea. Of course young Felix didn’t know that, who was in the middle of the picture smiling into the camera. Fabian smiled back at his grandson’s memory because he appreciated the blunt honesty of children. He reached in the old black felt bag and took out his violin. Then he took another look at his family, closed his eyes, thought about the clouds and started playing.

His music painted the honesty of his soul.

“My dear, dear Rhea,

I wake up every morning to the memory of your beautiful face,

I wish you could see all this beauty here,

I wish I could feel it with you.

Our first son, bringing prosperity and these wonderful children into the world, polishing minds.

Our last son, touching souls, flying high up on success.

Our only daughter who still manages to surprise me every day with her authenticity.

And our Frank, our dear Frank, born under war, in hiding and I see he is fated for the same love, loss and longing as I am.

But maybe not Felix. He already grew a better me we ever did.

Dear,

No war, no famine, fear or poverty could ever compare to my pain since you’ve left me.

Every war I fought, every penny I earned, every fear I’ve overcome, I did it for you. Every day I lived, and every day I still will… I’ll do it all, for you.

My Rhea