Many the Christmas
has faded away,
but here are a couple
preserved for today.
The curly-haired toddler,
a bit knobby of knee,
recalls the first Christmas
for cute little me.
The other, my parents,
with some of their caucus,
a nefarious bunch,
unruly and raucous.
A time to be serious
about four-in-hand,
and to mutter at tinsel
hung strand by strand.
Life wasn’t perfect then,
but still I hold dear
the Christmases seen
in life’s rearview mirror.
That’s my dad in the middle, and my mom is the one looking down at him; I can’t tell if she’s thinking what a great guy he is or his collar needs more starch. You will notice, dear reader, the Christmas tree in the far right of the photo. If you can remember the insanity of hanging tinsel strand by maddening strand, then you also remember the days when ties were what you could always get your dad for Christmas.