There, Mom and I would evaluate every tree before Daddy chopped the chosen one down and hauled it to the car. He would look so strong hoisting the b**...t of a tree onto the roof of our car.Those cheery holidays are gone now. After Mom died Dad just didn't see the point in celebrating. I glanced around the room. If Mom were here there would be stockings over the fireplace right now, and she'd probably be filling them with goodies as I dreamed quietly in my bed wondering what Santa had brought me. Running to greet–like lovers in a B movie beach scene–crossing the room, oblivious to those around us. Arms encircling… a giant hug… oh it is so good to actually feel her body touching mine. Our lips meet… moving, nipping, licking, tasting. Gasping a deep breath, we break to look in each other’s eyes. It’s there… Love. Hand in hand we go to the baggage carousel, looking at each other most of the way (bumping into a few hapless passengers). Both of us starting sentences at the same time, so much. More

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