Avery & Jean were about to celebrate their sixth Christmas together. The tree was in place, the cards addressed, and their small cramped apartment was decorated with treasures accumulated from their two lives. Jean was 92 years old and Avery 96. Since the day they married, they had enjoyed every minute of their lives together. Most Sundays after church, they went out for lunch or a ride in the country to buy golden peaches or juicy red cherries which Avery baked into his delicious pies. Often they would take along people from the nursing home next door, or the retirement apartments where they lived. They entertained in their small rooms and lived a wonderful life in their sunset years. Avery was still able to drive, so the couple was always on the move.

    That is the way it was, until one horrible Monday the first week of December. Jean suffered a stroke. It was not a massive stroke. It mainly affected her speech, and to a lesser extent, her thinking. Avery was in the hospital every day, along with friends and Jean’s daughter, Georgia, from Chicago. Georgia was very concerned about what would happen to her mother. She was extremely fond of Avery and treasured the joy he had brought to Jean after so many years of being on her own. He was like a knight in shining armor. He was a slender tall man, who stood with a special dignity; truly a gentleman. Georgia was happy for all of that but he was after all, 96 years old. He would never be able to take care of Jean now. That’s the way Georgia saw it. Avery had a different view.

    On Friday afternoon, Irene came to visit Jean at the hospital and found Avery and Georgia already there. Georgia stood up and looked at the sad, elderly gentleman and told him, “I am making plans to put Mom in a nursing home.”

    “No, Georgia, you can’t mean that! I can take care of her. I know I can.” Avery insisted.

    “Well I am sorry, Avery, I’ve made my decision. I will try to get her into Ball Pavilion, the nursing home adjacent to the apartment building if I can.” But Ball Pavilion had no vacancies, so for now, Jean would have to be taken to Ronsdall, way across town.

    Avery’s heart dropped as though he had been physically hit with a brick. Angry words flew across the room like lightning. Avery was the husband; he was capable of making decisions and taking care of his wife. He could afford help. Jean would die if they took her away. They must not be separated. But Georgia would not be moved. She had to think of what would happen to her mother when she went home to Chicago. Georgia’s own situation was not good. Her husband had lost his job and was not having a difficult time finding another.

    Irene watched the whole miserable scene, silently praying. Finally they all left, Georgia, red-faced to a motel and Avery slump-shouldered to the cold empty apartment.

    The next day Irene asked her daughter, Susan, to go with her to visit Jean. The nurse said, “I’m so glad to see you. She has been waiting all day for someone to come.” Georgia was not there, neither was Avery. “Oh my, Susan, I hope he isn’t sick too,” said Irene. They made the best they could of the visit. Jean had trouble communicating and kept looking at the door, seeming to strain to hear footsteps. But the steps didn’t come.

    Irene was a neighbor of Avery and Jean and asked Susan if she wanted to stop to see Avery when Susan took her home. Susan had a busy schedule of her own but didn’t want to say no to her mother. They walked down the long carpeted hall. Irene knocked. Slowly the door opened. Avery had been sitting at the table cooking pizzells, the Italian crispy cookie that was baked in a type of waffle iron. He had flour on his hands and wore a big white apron over his plaid long sleeve shirt. The room was quiet; no radio or television to be heard. The Christmas tree was up but the lights were out. He was sadness personified. Irene put her arms around her friend. “How are you, dear?” she asked.

Jean kept looking at the door, seeming to strain to hear footsteps. But the steps didn’t come.

    He told her everything that was on his heart; how much he loved Jean, how he could take care of her, how he was praying. Then he confessed that he was ashamed of the scene in the hospital room yesterday. “I was so upset I was afraid to drive. That is why I stayed home today. It is so quiet here. I just hate it. I want my wife back. I am so ashamed of the way I talked to Georgia. I know she loves her mom.” Then looking at Irene and Susan he asked, “Would you pray with me?” The three held hands, the two elderly friends and Susan, and prayed. Avery said everything he had already said to the women and previously to God. Irene, possibly the greatest prayer warrior in Pennsylvania, prayed. Susan prayed and felt the presence of God. Avery then said, “And all God’s people said “Amen’”

    They dropped hands and the telephone rang. It was the voice of the doctor, “Avery, we are going to send Jean home to you. A therapist can come to help there. You are right, it is the best place for her.”

    Avery hung up the phone with tears in his eyes. “She is coming home! Praise God. And all God’s people said ‘Amen.’”

    And Susan and Irene said, “Amen.” A smile spread across Avery’s wrinkled face and the tall gentleman stood up, shoulders straight, and walked to the tree and turned on the lights.

    Susan had to go home. Before she left, she saw Avery put some cash into an envelope. Irene stayed for another hour until Jean and Georgia arrived. Jean came home amid kisses and hugs and Christmas carols playing on the radio. Georgia helped her put on a long flannel nightgown and tucked her into bed. Before she left, she put her arms around Avery. “Can you forgive me, Avery? Can you forgive me?” Georgia pleaded.

    Avery begged, “Georgia, I’m the one who needs forgiveness. I was such a fool. It’s just that I love her so much and I don’t want us to be separated.”

    Georgia said, “You’re right. If she had gone into the home, she would have died there. Thank you for loving her so much.” Avery slipped the white envelope into Georgia’s hand.

    When she went down the hall to the elevator, Avery left the tree lights on and cuddled in next to Jean in the big double bed. The pizzels would be there for breakfast and some to put into packages for neighbors. “Thank you, Father, for bringing her home,” Avery prayed.

    Jean said something hard to understand, but Avery knew it was, “I love you.”

    Downstairs on the second floor, Irene sat with her open Bible and ended her prayer with “And all God’s people said “Amen.’” The timing of the whole thing was nothing short of a miracle.

    Across town next to David in the queen size bed in the two-story brick home, Susan prayed, “Thank you, Father, for your grace to Avery and Jean. And all God’s people said, “Amen.’”

    Merry Christmas, Jean and Avery, and all of you, my friends. And all God’s people said, “Amen.”

 

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© 2002, Maureen Stirsman. Used by permission.

Title: "Avery & Jean: A Christmas Love Story"
Author: Maureen Stirsman
Publication Date: December 21, 2002