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  • Writer's picturePhil

Christmas Memory

The year was 1983. It was a good Christmas because it was an honest Christmas. The humble tree bore lights which made the ornaments and silver icicles shimmer. It was my favorite time, with only the small light in the kitchen for competition, the tree created a warm glow in the dark living room. I had risen before my Mom that morning. A few minutes alone with my thoughts.  Alone with my gratitude.

I can not tell you about a single present I received. I can tell you though about breakfast together, her in one of her big robes. I can tell you about the Merry Christmas hug and the smile that still peaks through even after all these years. But most of all, I can tell you about the memories of her presence and of her love.

It was a good Christmas, it was an honest Christmas, because it was about all the things that are of value. These are the things that are not lost to time.

Merry Christmas to you all! ❤️

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