text: An elderly woman woke one night to hear sounds of laughter coming from outside her bedroom. She couldn’t remember inviting anyone, so she quickly got out of bed and made her way down the stairs to see what the commotion was. The joyful chatter began to grow louder as she made her way towards the light at the end of the dark hallway. It lead into the living room, where no less than 10 people could be found with small paper plates of food and red solo cups filled to the brim with various beverages. Christmas music was playing softly in the background of all the chaotic murmuring, and presents were neatly placed around the tree. Oddly enough, she couldn’t remember it being Christmas. She could hear her husband calling her name from the other side of the room signaling for her to come over. As she made her way across the room, she saw people she hadn’t seen in years and some in decades. She saw Ruth, her best friend from college, her siblings, her parents, and even her in-laws. She was shocked to see their faces, but they seemed quite uninterested. They waved of course, but they didn’t get up from their seats to greet her. They acted as if it was only yesterday when they had last encountered one another. When she got to her husband, he expressed how glad he was to see her awake. “You’ve been unwell for far too long now,” he said to her with a smile. She felt a bit sick earlier in the evening, so she went to lay down to sleep away the pain. She probably would have stayed asleep if her husband wasn’t throwing a party without her consent. Nevertheless, she was grateful to have a husband who loved her and people she could provide with hospitality and a good time. After a short conversation, she told her husband her intentions to catch up with Ruth. While walking over to her old friend, a dreary gray picture of a couple walking through the rain caught her eye. She thought her husband threw out the picture years ago after countless arguments over its affects on the room’s ambiance. It left her infuriated to know he kept it after all these years. She knew, however, that the only reason he put it back up was to please his mother and father who gave the painting to them their first Christmas as a married couple. His mother said that it represented a sturdy relationship even through times of struggle. She wasn’t going to confront her husband at that moment to avoid unnecessary conflict, but the issue would be brought to his attention eventually. The woman sat down on the couch next to Ruth and began to speak about how long it had been since they last saw one another. Ruth wasn’t as engaged as the woman would’ve hoped for. She remained preoccupied with other people and seemed to be ignoring the woman at times. Though she enjoyed every second of the conversation, she couldn’t help but ponder over the possibility that she may have done something wrong all those years ago, but that was simply speculation. She wouldn’t let one interaction ruin the evening after all. The talk was cut short by her sister’s voice announcing that it was time to open presents. Gifts were passed out one by one as family members tore through the wrappings to find toys, appliances, and small trinkets. When it was the woman’s turn to open a gift from her parents, she placed it on her lap and ripped the wrap to shreds. She opened the box, and inside was a blanket with the words “Home is where the heart is” in an elaborate cursive font. The woman was perplexed. “Mom,” she said, “you got this for me 30 years ago to celebrate our first Christmas in this house.” Her mother looked confused as well and responded, “This is your first Christmas in this house.” The woman took a closer look at her mother’s face and realized that there were significantly less wrinkles than the last time she saw her. It suddenly occurred to the woman that her 91st birthday was approaching and her mother would have to be well into her 110’s. She made her way over to the recliner where her mother sat and held her arm out. “Hold my hand. Please.” Her mom, who looked slightly younger than her daughter, reached her arm out to hold the woman’s hand, but her hand fell through her daughter’s. A tear fell down the woman’s cheek as she watched both her mom and dad fade from existence. She reached her hand out once more to place it on her mother in-law’s shoulder only to watch her hand fall straight through once more. She saw as the image of her in-laws began to fade along with her brother, sister, and Ruth. The only one that remained was her husband. She stared at the drab painting across from where she sat and said “That picture is still ugly, but maybe your mom is right about what it represents. We made it all the way despite everything we’ve been through.” The woman got up from where she sat, and she made her way over to her husband who was significantly younger than she was. Knowing what would happen, she hugged him one last time. For a moment, she could feel his spirit surround her, and he said to her, “It’s time for you to come home.” Her arms collapsed in, and she said, “I love you.” He vanished just like the rest of them, and in that moment, she fell to the floor and wept. While staring teary eyed into the picture of the couple standing carelessly in the rain, she began to grow quite fond of it. She saw her and her husband in it standing together through the storms of life--never to be separated. She got up from the floor and turned out the lights of her living room. One last time, she made her way down the hallway. She climbed the stairs to her room, opened the door, and found a body lying in her bed. The monitor indicating the person’s vital signs displayed only a horizontal line. The woman made her way across the cold floor to the lifeless body and kissed it on the forehead. She knew that home was where the heart was, and her heart no longer resided in that wrinkled body. The pearl inside the casing was gone, and it was time for the woman to come home. She placed her hand on the person’s chest, and it fell through as she expected it to. The only difference is that the body in front of her remained, but as she looked down at her own hands, they began to dematerialize. Soon, her entire body began to fade. She said to the person in front of her, “Thank you,” and she vanished. Some might say she is everywhere. She lives on as a thought in the minds of hundreds she touched. Some might say she’s in heaven. Some might say she is nowhere to be found, but wherever she finds herself, she is home.