stocking - cohens +1
written for The OC Advent Word Challenge
Prompt- #8: Stocking & the Cohens +1
Author - viper209n
Fandom - The O.C.
An 80 year old Sandy Cohen sat on his couch, holding a 50-something year old stocking as if it were a precious gem. His fingers traced the letters of the familiar name. His heart burned in his chest.
He looked up at the mantle. There were so many stockings now. He remembered when there were only two.
Then Seth made three. Then Ryan completed them with four. But a surprise brought them to five, Sophie.
All three children married, bumping the number up to eight.
Then came the grandchildren and then there were 15.
Every Chrismukkah, a bookshelf was moved next to the mantle to make sure all the stockings were hung.
It was a few days before Christmas and the house was filled. But it was too early for anyone to be up. So Sandy sat alone in the living room.
He knew this would be his last Chrismukkah.
"I won't keep you waiting long," he had whispered.
Sometimes he would catch his children and sometimes even his older grandchildren looking at him with a look that obviously said they knew this was it.
It was their first Chrismukkah without Kirsten and it would be their last with him.
Everyone knew he could only live for so long without her. They knew his soul would miss his mate too much and the will to continue in a world without her would quickly fade.
Sandy traced the 'K' again as tears fell from his eyes. However, they were not bitter tears. They couldn't be. He had been given so many years with his beautiful wife. She had given him three amazing children. They had grown old together. He had watched her age gracefully. She had accepted her few wrinkles and a need for reading glasses. He had watched her gorgeous golden hair turn into a beautiful silver.
He had been able to hold her close as she slipped away. She was spared any type of painful death and, for that, Sandy was thankful. He didn't think he could have lost her the way they lost her mother.
He didn't weep bitterly for losing her. He simply cried tears of pain, for it physically hurt to be without her.
Soft footsteps came down the hall. Sophie quietly joined her father on the couch. She looked down at her mother's stocking in his hands and then up at the empty holder on the mantle.
She paused for a few moments, waiting to see if her father would speak first. When he didn't, she started.
"You should put it up," she said softly, in a tone she had learned from her mother.
Sandy looked down at his youngest. He could see that look in her eyes, the one that said she knew he was going. Dropping the stocking in his lap, he pulled her into a hug.
They held tightly onto one another, feeling each other's soft sobs.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"We know, Dad."
"I just… can't. Without her…" he started but she interrupted him.
"Dad." She said firmly. "We know." However, the knowledge couldn't stop her tears. "Just try," she sobbed. "For us."
They pulled apart and Sandy looked back down at the stocking. He took a deep breath and stood up. He walked up to the mantle and gently put Kirsten's stocking on her hook.
His final whisper to her echoed in his mind as Sandy looked from the daughter that looked so much like his wife then back to Kirsten's stocking.
"I won't keep you waiting long."