Aunt Suzy's Last Christmas

This day a year ago

he was rolling in the snow

With a younger brother in his father's yard

Christmas break

a time for touching home

the heart of all he'd known

And leaving was so hard

Three thousand miles away now he's working Christmas Day

Making double time for the minding of the store

Well he always said

he'd make it on his own

He's spending Christmas Eve alone

First Christmas away from home

She's standing by the train station

pan-handling for change

Four more dollars buys a decent

meal and a room

Looks like the Sally Ann place after all

in a crowded sleeping hall

That echoes like a tomb

But it's warm and clean and free

and there are worse places to be

At least it means no beating from her Dad

And if she cries because it's Christmas Day

She hopes that it won't show

First Christmas away from home

In the apartment stands a tree

and it looks so small and bare

Not like it was meant to be

Golden angel on the top

It's not that same old silver star

you wanted for your own

First Christmas away from home

In the morning

they get prayers

then it's crafts and tea downstairs

Then another meal back in his little room

Hoping maybe that "the boys"

will think to phone before the day is gone

Well it's best they do it soon

When the "old girl" passed away

he fell apart more every day

Each had always kept the other pretty well

But the kids all said the nursing home was best

Cause he couldn't live alone

First Christmas away from home

In the common room they've got the biggest tree

And it's huge and cold and lifeless Not like it ought to be

and the lit-up flashing Santa Claus on top

It's not the same old silver star you once made for your own

First Christmas away from home

- Stan Rogers -

My lesbian aunt Suzy's last Christmas was spent at the Hockey house. Her long time partner Molly, who everybody also called an aunt, had croaked many years before. The whole time I knew my aunt Suzy she had white hair, white as fresh Zamboni'd ice. She was not the best aunt, I do not remember her giving me a beer. Suzy and Molly did give us Hockey kids a quarter if we did not break any of their antique furniture when we visited their Dope City apartment.

Before Aunt Suzy arrived for Christmas mom and dad assembled their Hockey kids and laid down the fucking law. My dad went first, "First rule is we do not talk about Aunt Suzy ever being attracted to her own sex."

My mom spelled out the second rule, "Firstly, your aunt is not a lesbian." We all giggled. My aunt was more lesbian than a leather mothersuperiorfucking nun. "When it is time for the Lawrence Welk Show everybody has to be quiet. It is your Aunt Suzy's favourite hour of Christmas Day. If she can swing to Lawrence without there being too much of a disturbance she will have had a fine Christmas Day. Remember: this is going to be her Last Christmas."

My dad asked us if the young Hockeys felt they could handle the awesome responsibility of helping old Aunt Suzy have a good last Christmas. We agreed we were up to the No Lesbian Talk Lawrence Welk Challenge, but not before I asked my dad, "How about if you leave us a few beers down in Santa's workshop to keep us out of the way for the Lawrence Welk Show." He agreed.

I came upstairs to get us another round of beers before The Show was over. My aunt Suzy was rocking in my dad's big chair like she was in heaven. (It had to be my aunt's last Christmas, my dad would not give up his chair to Tim Horton if Tim threw in a lifetime supply of doughnuts and coffee.) A heaven where everywhere you look there are bubble machines, people waltzing, kids drinking beer in the basement and vertical smiles singing "I Love You Suzanne."