Ghosts of Chistmas past

Reminiscing...
There was the room, or at least the room as it was most of the time,
tired old couch, Dad's worn chair, old table for Dad's Hi-Fi, And I
think the only piece of furniture my mother ever had new, an end
table, that she saved S&H green stamps for. I believe it was
early American, the only piece of that style. But that's the way we
were, simple, plain and mismatched. I can see the room as described,
and yet, I can see it as it was one Christmas morning, tree in the
corner brightly decorated, with ornaments that became so familiar,
like friends who returned every year, presents stacked and filling
half the floor, it seemed as if there was no place to step. Earlier
in the week. As Christmas loomed inevitable, each of us kids had
chosen our spot to sit and receive our gifts when Dad passed them
out. Chris by the heater vent, Craig by the couch and I by the door
that led to the front hall. Mom would take her seat on the couch. Dad
would put a stack of records on the turn table, walk to the tree and
begin handing out gifts. I loved all those packages brightly wrapped.
I remember the anticipation, not only for what I had received but to
see what the others would receive. I remember the smell of pine and
the rush of heat when the furnace would kick on. I can't remember all
the gifts that I received but I do know one, one that filled the room
and fills my memories, the gift of love, the gift of family. So this
Christmas make a memory. Remember your family, remember to love.