My favorite Christmas gift

Steve's oldest brother, Butch, has been a Godsend to me since my husband died. He has called me once or twice a week, every week. He has held my hand over the long distance wire as I have cried and screamed, he has made me laugh til my face hurts, he has made phone calls on my behalf to credit card companies. He has let me know that I'll always be a DeRose.

Butch and I are  both a little old school. My old school shows up in choosing to wear black for the first year after Steve's death. Since so many people wear black all the time I don't know if my choice is really noticed. Unless you know I like wearing bright and funky colors, you just see me and think 'there goes an aging goth chick'. Butch, as a sign of respect to his brother's life, has decided to go even more old school. He forewent Christmas. No cards, no decorations, no special meal, no saying Merry Christmas. But he's been worried about me and my first Christmas without Steve. And though he wouldn't call it a Christmas gift, on Christmas day he e-mailed me a photograph of him and Steve as a baby. It's the first baby picture I've ever seen of Steve. And it's the best damn Christmas gift I didn't get this year.

And knowing that Butch cares enough to break his rule for me - that gift of love is priceless.