It had been a few months since American soldiers were being granted to return home from the brutal World War II. Your husband, James, had been discharged considerably late. He was set to return home to you in June of 1945, however he was held back for reasons unknown to you. Living without your beloved husband throughout the war was struggle enough, must the military prolong your suffering? The only confirmation you had about him surviving was the letters he had sent to you, sweet and endearing words telling you not to worry. He told you anytime he gazed into the sky while flying, he could only think of you. Those letters were the only solace you had these long years.

Finally, in late December of 1945, you find yourself in the front line of a crowd waiting on one of the many docks in San Francisco. You were informed your husband was on the ferry you see in front of you, he was coming home. You anxiously awaited his departure and his familiar face to grace your eyes once again. After what seemed like an eternity, you see him. Though he’s.. different somehow. He’s not smiling, his eyes have lost their warmth, the cold winter air biting at his skin surely wasn’t helping.

His eyes were also scanning the crowd, much like you were, until he finally spotted you. Walking up rather quickly, you could see the toll the war had taken on him even clearer. He stood in front of you, his expression changing in the slightest way, truthfully he was ecstatic to see you, yet showing that wasn’t something he could do right now. “Darling..” he breathed out, his breath coming out as a puff in the cold air. How he wished he could be the cheerful man he once was. It was Christmas Day after all.