Date night.

I have recently got a new insight into Christmas. It is still a gaudy holiday for people to debauch themselves, but it can conversely be a time for generosity and fellowship. People seem to be a lot happier and “in the spirit” of things. Though this season has been a bit lonely for me with Vincent and Robin being out of town on their trip. There are not many other people that I can “hang” with Chantel is interesting, but I don't know her well enough to impose upon her.

Vincent was kind enough to offer me a chance to go with them, but even I could see that this was a good chance for them to be alone together. Also, I didn't want to be a “cockblock” to my friend and allow him to “seal the deal” at least this is what the guys in the locker room say. Though in all honesty I have no idea what they are talking about, there are so many nuances to language that don't mean what they seem to mean. I just hope sealing the deal doesn't mean some infernal pact. Though Vincent has promised to stop making those sorts of deals, you have to have faith.

Father Richards and his wife Anne have been very kind to me. They have given me a place to stay, in the basement of the church. I try to repay them by doing the chores around the church and the adjoining house. Cleaning the church and keeping the snow cleared from both properties. Anne seems particularly grateful and calls me an “angel” for doing all the heavy work. She makes me hot chocolate with these little marshmallows and homemade cookies. Sweets seems to be a weakness of mine.

Father Richards has also given me access to the vault under the church and said I am authorized to use anything there. It seems he is a man with a history since few people apparently have a cache of weapons and equipment that he has. Regardless of his history he is a man of god and his past is his business. He has also taken an interest in my well being. It is nice to have people that care for you. It must be what parents are like, to have a close connection to someone who mentors you.

Last night he came to me and asked me for a favour. The babysitter that they had for their night out canceled and he was in a “jam”. He asked if I could watch his 3 children for him. There was no way I could refuse and children are quite interesting to watch. I did express my trepidation due to my lack of experience with children but he said I should be able to handle it.

Children are curious things and I have always been a bit uncomfortable around them. Probably not a surprise since I am mostly uncomfortable with people. It is hard to figure out what it appropriate to say or do around children.

Rachel, Girl, Age 8 likes unicorns and dinosaurs. She does Tae-kwon-do at the community center. She is the oldest of the three. She is the most gregarious and outgoing of all the children. Arron, Boy, Age 7 watches power rangers and likes playing angry birds. He follows his sister around and tends to be the one she orders around.. Beth, Girl, Age 5 she likes reading and my little pony. She tends to be very quiet and solemn. Beth has always struck me as very watchful I find her staring at me a lot. They all have dark hair like their father and  brown eyes with lots of dimples, like their mother. They are also very loud for people so small.

Probably best not to go into the full evening. Since even relaying it makes me nauseous. It did end up with a near fire in the kitchen, the dog knocked over the Christmas tree chasing the children around, flour all over the kitchen and my cloths, and flood from the sink in the bathroom when Arron wanted to have a sea battle with his Power Ranger figures. The rest of the night was spent cleaning up the messes, resolving arguments and putting the children back to bed continuously after I read them several bedtime stories. There were plenty of objections from Rachel who stated to me that she should be allowed to go to bed latest because she is the "oldest."   I do not think I ever prayed to god more, to give me strength to survive the trial.

Father Richards and Anne returned to find me laying on the couch, looking worse for wear. The house was mostly back to normal and the children had not made an escape attempt in the last hour. I am ashamed to say that I  did not go into full detail of the night and kept it as brief as possible . They thanked me for taking such good care of the children and said they wanted to surprise me with something. Anne had an excited smile as they took me outside to the garage. The opened the garage door and there was an old Indian Motorcycle with a bow on it. I was at a loss for words as to what to say.

Father Richards ran his hand over the handle bars of the motorcycle. “This is something that I haven't ridden in years. It was from a former life but I could never part with it. Anne and I think it would be better if you had it. It still needs work but I can help you with some of that. It will only take some hard work to make it work properly again. “

I was thrilled but felt like it was too much of a gift. “Father Richards I don't know if I can accept something this generous. You and Anne have given me so much already.”

“You really should stop calling me Father Richards, Israel. You should call me John. And we want you to have it. You are a good person and we wouldn't have asked you to take care of the kids if we didn't think you were able to handle the responsibility. The children trust you and I knew they would be safe with you. We kind of think of you as one of the family. So us giving you a used motorcycle is no big deal so stop making it into one. ”  He and Anne shared a funny smile with each other.  

It was one of the nicest things anyone has said to me and the best Christmas present I have ever gotten.

The last thing John asked me was “Can you watch the kids next week?”

Father give me strength.    

So this is Christmas.

I woke up last night again drenched in sweat, tears running down my face, gasping for air. The dreams keep coming back. The doubts haunt me. The half remembered dreams or nightmares of a long existence. Perhaps writing these things down will exorcise these memories. Robin seems to think it may do some good, though what “good” means has been the question. How can anyone possibly understand?

It has been one of the hard parts of becoming human, the guilt. Regret for actions has never been an issue. My purpose was always clear to me to enact the will of my Father as he deemed fit. Though my clarity of purpose was linked to my fall I was too assured of my place and too willing to enact it, “overzealous” was the word used to describe my behavior. This is part of my penance and punishment, to be wracked with doubt and guilt. It never occurred to me that this is the price of freewill. To find your actions and thoughts muddied by a conscience even when you know what you are doing is the only action.

This time of year is strange to me. The way humanity celebrates of the birth of the Lord. It seems to be more of a celebration of a fat man in a red suit where people spend themselves into bankruptcy. If they really wanted to celebrate his day of birth they are off by about 2 months. This reminds me of the pagan orgies that happened during the winter solstice, though I get strange looks when I point this out. So I abide by what Robin chides me to do and leave things unsaid. People spend so much time obfuscating what they do and their reasons for doing it that it is difficult to understand if they actually believe in what they are saying because they believe in their own lie. Maybe that is why I am so terrible at small talk.

There is a part of this holiday that gives me pause. Though I have Robin's company at times and Vincent visits periodically. It has only makes me more keenly aware of my isolation. My father hasn't spoken to me since that Halloween night. Though I pray for an answer, his continued silence makes me feel that I have failed him in such a profound manner that I am forever banished. Is this what hell is like? Full of emptiness and silence.